The Promised Rain
by Sara Darkotter
Summary: He was Scorpius. She was Lily. He was a mute, Death Eater spawn. She was perfect, a hero's daughter. He was a Malfoy. She was a Potter. It could never be... Could it?
1. Prologue: Wish For Thunderstorms

Dear God, this is the shortest prologue I have written in...Ever. Which is why there are two chapters up instead of just one. Seriously, it's so short!

But enough about that. This is me, my first Harry Potter fanfiction, my twenty-something fanfiction, and...Yeah.

Read on.

* * *

_And in that moment, she was gone. Forever._

_Scorpius gripped his hands in tight fists, eyes shut and head bowed. It needed to rain, right now, because Lily was gone. It needed to rain ice cold with lightning and thunder in his head to drown out the hate in his mind and freezing water dripping down his neck to numb his broken heart._

_She had been taken from him before, but he'd never felt so strongly as he did now, because this time was permanent. Now...Now, he wanted to curl up on the grass below his feet and hope that Merlin and God would team up to strike him dead. Maybe, it would be a lightning bolt. Yes, that would be a lovely way for it to end after that, killed by a brilliant display of light and energy. _

_But the sky remained the same, and there was no building of energy to tell him of one arriving. _

_Things were doomed for him from the start, from birth. He could never meet his father's standards, his grandfather's were a mountain away forever, the wizarding world hated him. His own abilities were blocked by a stupid flaw._

_And he'd lost her._

_He glanced around at the ground, looking for an outlet for his frustration, but none presented himself. Blood dripped from his hands where his nails had cut his palm._

_But Scorpius payed no mind to bodily pains as he slowly sank to his knees, looked at the one place he'd seen her last._

_And he screamed, loud and harsh, rough, the sound ripped from his throat like some sort of wild animal from a throat not meant to sound it._

_Because Lily..._

_Was gone, forever._


	2. Chapter 1: Beginnings

Scorpius was told, every day, that he would have to try harder to stay level with others. This wasn't some odd cruelty. It was the truth.

It was hard to use a spell when you couldn't speak the words aloud.

Maybe it was just the sign he was born under, but Scorpius Malfoy had a severe speech impediment. He was practically a mute, and a visit by a Healer at a young age had revealed that his vocal cords were just plain old oddly formed.

Scorpius looked at the suitcases on the cart, the carryon his mother had quietly held for him and his owl, silent as he was, and he wanted to run away, back to the Muggle taxi that had dropped them off.

It didn't matter to him that Hogwarts was the only school for wizards in all of the UK. It didn't matter that if he didn't go he'd be uneducated his entire life because Muggle schools wouldn't make the years of childhood with exploding lightbulbs when he just couldn't contain his magic get any better. He knew what was waiting for him at Hogwarts. Every trip into Diagon Alley had shown him.

Glares, stares, children beating on him and running away with smiles to their own parents who didn't seem particularly concerned. People turning their backs. One woman, when he was six and got lost, slapped him when he asked for help.

"I know, Scorpius," his mother whispered. "I know you're scared. But I'll write every day, and if it gets bad, I can take you right home." She rubbed his shoulder.

He hugged his mother in response, his new black cloak flapping oddly when he did so. His father, though not the man to tell speeches to his son, held out an arm, and Scorpius hugged him too, looking up at a face so like his own. The blond, the gray eyes, the high cheekbones.

He hoped the differences ended there. It would be hard enough without having his father's schoolhood attitude.

Then he pulled off the dark cloak and folded it slowly, keeping his hands busy as he waited.

"Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."

He risked glancing at the speaker. Ginger hair, tall, constant determined gaze. Weasley. The woman standing beside him told Scorpius that it was Ron Weasley and his wife, Hermione. Which made the daughter...

Rosie, obviously. He didn't know children. He didn't know anybody's son or daughter, because who wanted to be friends with the grandson of one of Voldemort's biggest Death Eaters? He would use curses on them, kill them!

Looking at the Weasley clan, joyful, smiling, their little discomforts and arguments only adding to their happiness, he wished, not for the first time since he'd learned of the Second Wizarding War, that he had been born to a different family. Or maybe never at all.

A wizard, the train crew, slung his luggage into its car, avoiding looking at them. Scorpius waited for him to move on, then took the small backpack from his mother and stepped onto the train. Maybe, he could find some compartment crowded by luggage where he could be alone. Where the...

He took a few hesitant steps down the carpeted interior of the hallway and eyes focused on him in a solid wave of unpleasant attention.

Bullying could be delayed.

This was what he got for being a Malfoy. He was too distinctive. He should have dyed his hair before coming. And worn a different style. And colored over the "Scorpius Malfoy, [phone number]" written in white block letters on the backpack handle.

From one of the compartments, a little girl exited. She was too young to be a student, red-blond hair bound up in childish pigtails and a pink dress. There was a purple ribbon in one of the pigtails, a streamer.

"Send me something every week, even if you have to steal your dormmates underclothes!"

Laughter filled the compartments nearby. Slightly nervous laughter from a few older students with Gryffindor colors on.

Then she skipped down the hall towards him. Scorpius pressed himself against the wall to let her pass.

She didn't. Instead, she stopped and turned to him. "Who are you?"

He started to sign and thought better of it. Most children didn't know sign language. He held out his backpack handle, looking at the carpet.

"Scor-pi-us Mal-foy," she read slowly. "I'm Lily. My older brothers are going here, so they're going to prank everybody." She grinned, but it quickly faded when she looked at his face. "Why are you sad?"

He shrugged, the best he could do.

Lily hugged him, arms circling his chest and arms. Scorpius blinked in shock as the two closest compartments jumped to their feet, wands at ready. All fifth years.

Nervous about them, he worked an arm free from what was a very strong grip for a little girl and hugged her head. He sincerely hoped that this girl would be attending in the next year or two.

And that she wouldn't have "Kill all the Death Eater children" grilled into her by then.

"The train has to go, child," the conductor called. Obviously, he couldn't see Scorpius, or she would have been dragged away.

Scorpius the pessimist. Raining on his own parade since two-thousand-five.

"Okay!" She smiled up at Scorpius. "Just a second." Then she pulled the purple ribbon out of her hair and handed it to him. "Mama said if I saw a scared person on the train I could give this to them. Since my hugs take too long."

Then she dashed away, a red-gold streak.

The compartments must have been holding their breath. Carefully, he folded up the ribbon and slid it into a backpack pocket.

Then he sat down in the hallway and stared at the joint between floor and wall as the train lurched underway.

* * *

"-Purple!" The compartment, already gasping for breath, was turning blue themselves. "So then, I-Holy!"

Scorpius crashed headfirst into the storytelling as a fifth-year threw him into the door. As it turns out, the door wasn't locked. The window set in it shattered, raining glass on the table and passengers as it swung open, and hit the table, shattering cups and scattering candy and lunches. There was the loud ringing sound of a potted plant hitting the ground and the clay pot breaking.

"So have we learned, little Malfoy?"

Despite the glass pricking at his neck, he nodded, and regretted it as a tiny lance of pain issued from right next to his spine.

"Good. Have a nice year."

The fifth year, his girlfriend, and his friend who tripped him when he was getting out of their way walked off.

Immediately, he was free to notice that his neck wasn't all that hurt.

A face hovered over him. "Merlin, you okay?"

He let out a quiet whimper of distress. His breathing was a fluttery panic; when he inhaled too far, more glass pricked at his ribs.

"Here, you've got the best featherlight charm. I'm good at levitation." He looked back down with a slight grin on his face, though his eyes were still worried. "Hold on, kid!"

He heard them speaking their charms aloud, and Scorpius slowly let out a sigh of relief as he floated off the table.

"Put him here-Move your stuff, Victoire! I don't care how precious it is, it can stay on the floor!"

Someone slowly turned him over and he settled down on a bench on his stomach.

"Merlin, he's got glass in his arms!" A high-pitched girl's voice announced. There was the sound of someone leaving and slamming the door out of habit.

Risking a peek at the others around, he wished he'd gone through the train window.

The Potter brothers. The second they realized who he was, he was doomed.

The younger, who looked so much like pictures of Harry Potter himself that Scorpius's stomach turned fearfully, was rummaging through his backpack.

The older was looking at his back. "Do you think we should take those out?"

A red-headed girl scurried in, freckles bright. "No! Leave it there until we get help! It's a puncture wound, so it's preventing him from potentially bleeding to death!"

"Scorpius Malfoy," the Harry twin read from the backpack. "Look James."

"What's your point, Al? He just crashed through a window at us."

Al shook his head. "No point, just saying. That's why it happened in the first place."

"Oh, bullying," James said distastefully. "Excuse me."

Al blinked as his brother left. "Is he always so serious about that?"

A blond young woman nodded. "He hates it. Those three won't go a week this year without something happening to them. It's a good excuse for him to prank, too."

There was a sudden loud shriek, then shouting.

"Look, I'm sorry he flew into your cabin! I didn't know the door wasn't locked! I'll pay for a replacement frog or something!"

There was talking he couldn't quite pick out, and, "What do you mean, it was uncalled for? He was asking for it the second he stepped on the train!"

And then there was the loud sound of an explosion. A few short seconds later, James came back, head high, grinning. "Scorpius, I wish you could have seen the look on his face."

He managed a smile, and then wiped a finger along his cheek and nose. James blinked and did the same. The pillow stuffing that had plastered itself to his cheek fluttered away.

"I don't know, deary. I just sell candy. Who's hur..." An elderly woman, pushing a cart, stopped and looked at him. "Oh. Oh my! Excuse me, I'll go inform Hogwarts right away!" She dashed away, pulling the cart with her.

James sighed. "Oh, Molly. Couldn't you have bought something before telling her? Now I'll never find that collectable chocolate frog card."

The first year drew herself up, short ginger hair gleaming in the sunlight. "Stop thinking of your stupid collectable-There's pillow stuffing on your collar. What did you do, Mr. Potter?"

From the way she said "Mr. Potter" it was obvious this was his You-Are-In-SOOO-Much-Trouble-When-I-Write-Home name.

"Oh, just paid back those bullies for Scorpius here. I'll have to help sew things back together later, but it was worth it!" He laughed. "The looks on their faces!"

The blonde young woman, as the eldest student there, tried to look disapproving, but she grinned anyway, walking off to survey the damage wrought by her cabinmate. She came back, giggling in a rather attractive way. Scorpius blinked and quickly glanced elsewhere. That was a new thought for him. She must have been Victoire then, the part-veela student.

"James, we'll forgive you for that one."

They were family, it was obvious in the way they all interacted. The Weasley-Potter clan.

A happy family.

Scorpius closed his eyes and tried to ignore the tears pricking at his eyes like needles.

* * *

"Hey, Scorpius. We're here. There's a Healer for you."

He blinked, then looked at James Potter.

He nodded.

A woman stepped into his line of sight, setting her wand on the table. "The train hurried so we could get you help. The students got to pull in to a beautiful sunset, child. Now let's get you fixed up."

The next half an hour was pain and bandages, then he was slowly allowed to sit up.

"There! You'll be in pain for a few weeks though. I try to avoid spelling puncture wounds. It does funny things, on occasion." Then she whirled. "James Potter! You should have been on the carriages!"

"I was waiting to make sure he was okay."

"Well you could have found that out from Hogwarts! Now I have to take both of you in! Come on! Since you're here, you can carry my tools." She shoved a bag at him. James fumbled to carry it. "Now. Come on, child." She pulled him to his feet, allowing him to lean on her. He stooped to get his backpack and cloak, putting the cloak on over his torn clothes.

She led him down the hall, but stopped at the bathrooms. "Both of you, go put on your uniforms!" the stern woman commanded. Scorpius scrambled to do as she said.

The cramped space gave him just enough room to pull on the uniform and look down to make sure no one had messed with it. Nothing. So he limped out, carefully closing the door and leaning on the nurse again. Carefully. She looked so old, like she might break at any moment, but her eyes were strong.

"Madam Pomfrey, how are we getting to the castle?"

"Boats, Mr. Potter. That's what you get for not going when you were told."

James shrugged. "Fine by me!"

They finally limped off the train, setting down in the midst of beautiful woods, a castle rising before them across a lake. The stars were coming out, reflecting on the dark water surface, tiny candle lights.

"Come on, you three! I 'aven't got all day!"

"Hagrid, we'll come as fast as we like!"

"We could carry you," James suggested, looking a little antsy. Madam Pomfrey swatted the back of his head.

Hagrid came over, paused as he looked at Scorpius, then sighed and gently picked him up in huge hands. "Come on, first year. Let's get you with the rest."

The half-giant was very kind as he set Scorpius down in the boat, helping in Madam Pomfrey. James had to climb in himself.

Then they shot across the lake under the power of his rowing.

"We can make it to Headmistress McGonagall's first-year speech!" he shouted over the wind. Scorpius clung to the side of the boat, eyes wide with excitement as the water zipped away, star reflections blurring and disappearing. As an experiment, he dipped a few fingers into the water. A wide spray shot up, and he grinned.

"Hand out of the water, young 'un! Thems monsters in the deeps."

Scorpius pulled his hand out, blinking down at the water fearfully. But when nothing rose up to catch him, he smiled.

The shore came up fast and Hagrid backpaddled, letting the boat spin in a slow circle before it nosed up onto the shore. Then he jumped out, and pulled it up. James and Madam Pomfrey helped Scorpius out. He shouldered his backpack as they limped quickly to the entrance.

"-Is a big honor. So remember to be respectful, stay in line, and for heaven's sake, no complaints!" a stern voice said. Scorpius, standing at the room doorway as both the nurse and James departed, looked at a stern woman with pure white hair bound up in a bun. She set a pointed hat on her head, looked around, then nodded satisfactorily. "Line up, first years! The sorting awaits!"

They obeyed, and Scorpius tried to stand in the back of the line, but the woman glanced at him and dragged him forward. "I'll forgive you, since you were getting medical help, but we're getting in alphabetical order, Mister Malfoy."

He ducked his head in apology.

She squeezed him in between two students as most of an entire line of first years shot him looks of hate, disgust, distrust, even a little anger.

"And we'll have none of that, either! Do not blame the child for the deeds of his grandparents! Or I'd have a few choice words with each of you!"

Shamed, they looked down or away.

But he could still feel their eyes as they marched. He clutched his backpack to his stomach, hoping that this would be over quickly. His legs already hurt from standing by himself and his stomach threatened to toss back up everything left of what he'd eaten that morning.

The Great Hall was even bigger than he imagined. The ceilings vaulted hundreds of feet above his head to a dark ceiling, where stars were coming out. Candles hovered, too high for anything to reach, but not so high to damage the ceiling. Arches and buttresses of worn stone, well carved, helped to make him feel even smaller.

And four long tables set parallel to each other down the length of the hall, all the second-to-seventh year students already seated. Their eyes were kind as they looked at the children that would soon join them, till they saw someone recognizable, that had features familiar to anyone who went to a Wizarding War memorial. Scorpius looked at the floor so he wouldn't have to look at ice-cold eyes.

They lined up and waited. A hat that sang to itself as it was brought out, before belting out a poem. The Sorting Hat. His mouth went dry as he glanced around. Even the Slytherins had distasteful eyes for him, though only heavens knew why.

And one by one, children came forward to sit on the old three-legged stool put down for them, the ancient wide hat was put on their heads, and it would sit a minute before calling out a House name.

"Gryffindor!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Hufflepuff!"

And there would be one less person between him and the object that decided the backdrop for his living hell.

"Malfoy, Scorpius!"

He slowly walked up the steps as his name was called, feeling ice-cold eyes and even hearing a few quiet boos. He took a deep breath and sat on the stool. Darkness dropped as the hat came down.

"_Now let's see. Ah! A Malfoy! So, you want-"_

'_I don't care.'_

"_You don't care where you go?"_

'_It won't make a difference to how I'm treated. Syltherin would just be a bit more cunning in their tortures.'_

The hat muttered small things allowed, stalling as it talked in his mind.

"_So you don't value Slytherin traits, and you don't show them in yourself...You have loyalty. I could make you a Hufflep-"_

Scorpius thought of the black and gold scarf of the boy who threw him into the train window.

"_Or maybe not. Well, you don't have the right intellect for Ravenclaw. But you have plenty of courage, and I think...Yes, this house will challenge you and bring out the best!"_

"Gryffindor!"

Scorpius's blood iced over a little as the hat was picked up to a gasp. Murmurs broke out as he stood, head bowed, and shuffled over to his new table. He sat where there was the most space between him and the other students on a bench, saving them the time it would take to move over. He watched the rest of the sorting from the corner of his eye.

Molly Weasley, Gryffindor. Rose Weasley, Gyffindor. Albus Potte-(Why was he being sorted now?)

The hat stalled, taking its time to look. He could see Al grit his teeth, then nod once.

"I'm glad. Slytherin!"

The hall was dead silent. Not even a stirring ghost. There was the sound of something heavy hitting the floor as he stood, head high and eyes blazing as he swept down the hall and sat at his designated table. Nobody moved, nobody breathed. They just stared in shock.

The Professor hurriedly called the next name. The other children were sorted in order, but the cheers had an odd quality to them. Nobody was quite there.

The girl across the table from him leaned forward, hissing, "You should be there, not Albus, you little git!"

Scorpius looked at the tabletop.

"You're a Malfoy! You're the poster-boy for Dark Arts and evil ideals! I don't know about others, but I know you're going to-"

Scorpius coughed meaningfully into a fist, glancing behind her.

"Miss Evans! Is there something so desperately wrong that you have to talk during the ceremony?"

Her eyes widened and she slowly turned to look up at the Professor standing over her, arms crossed.

"N-No, Professor Longbottom. I'm very sorry."

He nodded and walked back to the head table.

Scorpius widened his eyes and glanced at Professor Longbottom. Neville Longbottom. He'd tried to attack Voldemort! And now he was here! As a professor of herbology, if the dirt on his clothes was any clue.

Headmistress McGonagall rose for a speech, that was thankfully short and that Scorpius didn't hear because he was too busy trying to ignore his stomach.

"And a few notes on two of this year's students. In Ravenclaw, Margaret McCoy, is deaf. Do not tease her on the matter, do not make fun of her. She uses sign language, not "funny idiot hand flappings."" She aimed a glare at a Slytherin. "Do not take her translator or I will personally suspend you. And in Gryffindor, Scorpius Malfoy is mute, and like McCoy, uses sign language. There will be no jokes about this, no teasing! Is that clear?"

The students nodded. Scorpius tried to unobtrusively sink under the table.

"Good. Let us begin."

Instantly, food appeared, the tables groaning at the sudden appearance of the weight. Meats, fruit, vegetables cooked in all ways, pastries, cake... Scorpius clenched his jaw, keeping his hands under the table. Let everybody else eat first. They'd just distrust any dish he touched.

"Here, mate! Your plate's looking a little empty." Scorpius watched a serving of some form of noodles appear on his plate, and looked up at James.

"Sorry it took me so long. Zen," he waved at a girl along the table, "kept wanting to talk. I think she likes me." He took a seat. The table stared from the corner of their eyes, talking more slowly to listen in.

"So do how you like Hogwarts?"

Scorpius shrugged.

James tried again "Nice place, huh?"

He shrugged again.

Albus seemed to adjusting already. The table seemed to realize the greatness that came with having a Potter graduate Slytherin and was taking to him, talking animatedly. Two other first years talked with him, all talking with their mouths full. How attractive.

"Hey, you need to eat, Score." The plate under his nose rattled slightly.

He glanced at the plate, then the third year giving him an older brotherly look. Then he picked up a fork and slowly chewed his way through the noodles.

"Must be upset that it's not all fancy like at home," someone muttered.

"Maybe he doesn't like the lack of muggle blood seasoning."

Scorpius thought of that and thought of the blood currently oozing onto bandages under his uniform and twisted his upper body to throw up on the floor.

"Or...Maybe not," the person said.

And the Headmistress and nurse were already there, asking him something he couldn't quite hear and a cool hand on his forehead, and a fifth year Gryffindor prefect leading him away. He was clinging to the teen's robes, backpack still slung lazily on one arm, dizzy.

Once the huge doors thudded shut behind them (Making Scorpius' ears ring) the prefect shook him off. "Don't cling like that."

Scorpius fell over. He threw out his arms to stop himself and was rewarded by screams of pain from where the cuts hit the ground.

"Oh. Sorry, Malfoy. Here." The prefect pulled him up. "May not like you, but that's depressing to see." Hands on his shoulders, he led Scorpius down the hallways. "So what did Madam Pomfrey mean by blood-loss anyway? You get cut?"

Scorpius concentrated on making sure he was walking, not crawling.

A stair slid into place before him. The prefect quickly hurried them both onto it.

"Look around for a moment if you can, look where you are."

He looked around.

Moving staircases. Everywhere. They were standing on one at that moment, moving up to balconies, paintings adorning the walls every which way.

"Here's our stop."

The staircase connected to a still one that was attached to the wall. They limped up it, to a balcony where an overweight woman in a gold and pink silk dress was sitting, frozen as she stared at a glass cup in her hands.

He pretended to be scared when she moved. That always pleased the paintings at home.

"Oh, I'm sorry deary. Are you okay?" She peered at him. "You're so pale!"

He looked at the balcony floor.

"Constellation," the prefect said. The painting swung outward. A low doorway sat behind it and they ducked, pulling themselves through. It swung shut behind them.

"The Fat Lady. Password changes all the time." He blinked at the draperies covered with the Gryffindor symbol. "Hm. How are you going to use them?"

He signed constellation. The prefect blinked. "So that's constellation? Well, it makes sense!" He tried it himself, index fingers jabbing upward quickly and then hands forming a circle. "Stars and sky. Cool!"

Scorpius rolled his eyes and managed to wobble to his feet.

"Boy's rooms on the left side. Name listings on the doors."

The prefect left, pausing outside to talk to the Fat Lady. Scorpius staggered his way upstairs, opening the door to the room with his name. He didn't glance at the others, too scared to want to know who his dormmates were.

It was a small cozy room with a large window and four poster beds. Trunks and suitcases sat at the end of each one, there was a bedside table and bookshelves and desks. Or maybe a desk. His vision was weird. He collapsed on the bed with his things without undressing, too dizzy to go through the motions.

If this was his first day, the next seven years were going to be one hell of an emotional rollercoaster ride.

Three nice people, a school full of everybody on the opposite end, staff who were obviously unequipped to deal with his disability, getting put in a House his grandfather would hate and his father would at least dislike, being thrown through a glass window...

He would be dead by fifth year, tops.

Scorpius stared at the window until he passed out.

I got the idea for him being a mute from looking at the wikpedia page on the Scorpius astrological sign. What do you all think?

**Edit 10/12/12: Added line-breaks, FF deleted the symbols I was using before after an update. Also adjusted his birth-year to 2005, which makes sense if he's born in November.**


	3. Chapter 2: Twining Ribbon

Hello favers, alerters and reviewers! (And stalkers. I know you're there too :P)

Welcome to the next chapter. This one introduces a few new plotpoints. But first:

Anon: Er... *Cough* I... Look, I'm going to be a touch blunt. I think you might need to reread the Deathly Hallows epilogue again. But here, to answer:

Lily Luna Potter-Yes, Harry's only daughter.

James Sirius Potter (AKA James the second, The Sequel James, The Mauraders Part Two, Etc.)-Yes, also Harry's.

Scorpius Malfoy (AKA "Oh. Him.", Target Practice, Score, Scoreboard, Scorpion)-Yes, Draco's son. His mother is Astoria Greengrass.

The Hufflepuff question shall be answered in this chapter.

Read on, my friends!

* * *

As it was, Ravenclaw, when they had started classes on the very first full day, had been happy to put that intellect to work and start teaching everybody in their House how to use sign language, if only basics. They could be found in the library for three weeks straight, bridging the gap between themselves and their new first year, sending letters off to those with Muggle-born parents to send them books on the subject. Ravenclaw became an entire House of interpreters in no time at all. You could see them greet McCoy with a few cheerful waves of their hands and her return the motions, sometimes with her correcting them.

Scorpius struggled to get his own House to understand when he was just trying to get through. They went out of their way to be difficult. "Oh, speak up Malfoy." "Sorry, couldn't hear you." "Sorry, don't understand stupid."

Thankfully, there was James and Albus, standing up for him, waiting around to make sure nobody bullied him on his way to classes and helping him prank anybody who did it anyway.

On their latest venture, they were on their way to dye someone's hair puce green.

"And too bad. Zen liked me too."

Scorpius had his own opinion of Zinnia, which would probably be considered unprintable in at least two languages.

"But nobody punches out my friends, right?" James gave the infamous Potter grin, formed and perfected by his grandfather. Scorpius returned of his own.

That's right. Draco Malfoy smirked. Scorpius had a mischievous grin. It made quite a difference in the thin face, currently sporting a purple bruise on his cheek. He couldn't bring himself to bug Madam Pomfrey about it, so he just wore it and covered it when any concernable adults came past.

"Well, that's the last of the potion ingredients. Let's do this. Al?"

Albus started the potion. Apparently, some clichés were true. Slytherins were better at potions overall. But there the whole subtlety-is-an-honored-trait thing, and potions were very subtle...

Watching Al put together a highly advanced potion with ease, ("No, a steel spoon, not apple wood. Wood would make it royal purple. It would react with the...") he decided that he would _never_ get on his bad side. He was ahead, in second year potions himself, but being able to invent, of all things! Albus had come up with a potion recipe in less than half an hour and a glance at the person they were pranking. And with variations, to boot!

"Maybe we could use these on Lil' over the summer," James mused. Albus nearly stopped in mid-quarter-stir.

"No," he said. "No, no, no. She'll know who did it. And then...Oh, please don't, James! It would be horrible!"

Scorpius waved a hand, handed Albus the next ingredients and gave them a questioning look.

"Lil's our little sister. Haven't I told you? Oh, o'course I have, just haven't mentioned her name! Regular old tomboy. Taught her to burp four Christmas songs her third winter." James sighed. "Ah, that was a fun holiday. Mom was pissed, o'course, but then she joined in, just like a girl raised by six brothers would. Uncles loved it." James went on a tangent concerning the accomplishments of his little sister, which, when Scorpius mentally listed, made him pause.

It was a list, yes, but it built on itself in a way that made it look James had planned everything he wanted to teach his sister _before__she__was__born_. And it built up to an evil mastermind plan somewhere, he was sure. James loved big dramatic scenes and ideas. That was why they were dying Zen's hair puce green, instead of a more subtle way to teach her to pick on someone else.

Scorpius twirled his hands in a 'And your point is...?' gesture. James stopped in mid-sentence about the way she could climb anything.

"The point? Oh, yes! The point! It's to make sure no guy ever dates my Lil. Ever. If she acts enough like a guy, no guy would be interested, you see." He caught Albus' look. "What? If I want a niece or nephew, I can get you a date!" He quickly chopped up something that looked suspiciously moldy. "And I found out there's this muggle clothing thing, it's called a binder. A girl can wear it and it flattens her chest. There, done, no more appeal."

Scorpius reached for his quill to write a response and thought better of it. Sister was apparently a higher level than brother, and to James, brother and friend meant the same thing. Scorpius, while having a sister himself, didn't quite understand. His sister was only a year old and stared at people. On occasion she'd make some sort of infant babble. Or cry quietly. So James' reaction and constant talk went right over his head.

"Mother would object if you bought her that," Albus said calmly, adding the final ingredient. Troll fingernail clippings. Scorpius forgot to breathe through his mouth and gagged.

"Smells nasty, huh?"

James narrowed his eyes. "Won't she smell something's up?"

Albus grinned the Potter grin. "With a little rosemary, she won't know a thing, and it'll stick around forever!"

The herb was crumbled in, the stench disappeared, Albus gave it one counterclockwise half-stir and then took the potion off the heat. It was an odd green-blue shade, but Scorpius had complete faith (Heh. Complete faith. His surname meant 'bad faith.' Talk about not living down to your name) in Albus' ability.

"Once it gets in her shampoo, it will work for one use, then they'll never know how it happened." Albus gave a rather dark grin. "And nobody will look at us because you'd never manage anything unreversable, Scorpius is a shy little boy and I'm a Slytherin. Why would I associate with lowlives?" He said the last line in what he probably imagined was a snotty tone. Scorpius managed a quiet hoarse laugh, which sounded (And was) a rough choppy breathing. He didn't keep it up long. Laughing made his throat hurt.

"Alright, Al! Come on!" He snatched up the vial, then swiftly departed the Potions classroom. Scorpius loosely rolled up his parchment and slung it in his bag with his quill and capped the ink bottle. Personally, he preferred a journal and regular old muggle pencil (Easy to carry, easy to use, didn't spill all over his grandmother's handmedown expensive tasteful rugs, you could erase...), but when in Rome, you're forced to follow their rules.

Al had quickly put back the potion ingredients, putting the caldron among the many waiting for a good old-fashioned soaking. Even better. After all, if someone wanted to prank a student, why leave evidence like that just lying around?

Scorpius left the room at a quick trot. If he was fast, he could catch up to James "Stairmaster" Potter in no time.

"Malfoy," a deep voice said. "Since you were so busy fanning after Potter last week, you seemed to have forgotten. Your visit to the war memorial."

Scorpius shook his head.

"No? You don't want to pay homage to those who died? The ones who saved the world from Voldemort right here in Hogwarts?"

Scorpius took a few steps back. The third year Ravenclaw, Matthias Birch, was a powerfully built young man. He reached out, grabbing his arm and yanking Scorpius up the stairs, down along the first floor corridor near the entrance.

The war memorial was more of a mini museum, a short low-ceilinged hall dark-lit with photos and important personal belongings of Hogwarts students who died helping rid the world of Voldemort.

"Ah. Look. It's a picture of a girl being Cruciatused...by your grandfather!" Birch threw him at the glass, spelled not to break. Scorpius looked at the photo with one eye, the other trained on his attacker.

"So today, let's do this for her! And guess what..."

A second third year in the silver and green accents of Slytherin proudly entered, eyes trained on Scorpius.

"Your father and grandfather couldn't even show the courage to stay on the side they joined. They betrayed the Death Eaters, they betrayed Hogwarts. They betrayed everyone, as long as they didn't have to take blame. Others did. They admitted their mistakes and they were forgiven, by Voldemort or the Ministry." The student's eyes brightened. "So today, Birch and I are going to teach you about something called Organizational Loyalty. That's where, my friend, even if your part of an organization hates another, you stay loyal to them."

Scorpius swallowed. Here it came.

A punch to the stomach, then a few to the face, the bruise reblossoming with pain. He managed to duck one that would have flattened his nose, taking it on his forehead instead.

"Now I'm sure you're wondering why people don't use spells to fight you," Birch said conversationally as he continued throwing his weight around. "First, a spell can be found on the owner's wand. We don't need anybody trying to get us in _trouble.__" _Birch smirked. "Second, you just might try a return spell. I don't know about you," A second to the stomach made Scorpius fall to his knees with a gasp. Cue kicking. Something exploded in his ribs, knocking out the air he'd struggled to draw, there was a sharp crack from what he was sure was a rib bone. Huh. Usually, they didn't try for any injury that obvious.

"'Ey, 'ey. That was a rib. If it's broken, the staff'll finally catch on." Birch restrained his classmate. "Come on. I think he's learned this month's lesson."

Scorpius glared at them as they walked off, not standing close, but happy to bond over another's pain.

The second he was gone he glanced around. Good, nothing looked damaged.

There was a cool sensation on the back of his neck. Shuddering (And wincing because of it), he glanced up from the corner of his eye.

It was the girl from the picture. She was placing transparent hands on his shoulder and arm.

Living, she must have been a brunette, with gray eyes and straight hair still bound up in the ponytail of the still photo. No one had even developed those photos the way they usually did. No one wanted to watch those moments constantly in action. Muggle form was bad enough as it was.

"Your rib is cracked, not broken," she said in a faded voice. Then she frowned at the way his tormenters had gone. "They don't need to do this. It will not help anyone. They are only binding us here."

Scorpius didn't understand the last line, but he definitely agreed with the first two.

"You're a quiet one, little Malfoy."

He started to shrug but thought better of it, holding a hand to his rib and slowly easing himself upright.

It didn't work out. His arm was broken, from the scream he felt in his lungs and the way it wouldn't respond. He got shaky legs under himself and looked at his backpack. He couldn't leave it behind.

Gritting his teeth, he bent down and picked up the bag, letting the strap settle comfortably on a bruise on his shoulder. Then he laid his hand over the rib again, feeling his nerves screeching out the damage. Breathing light, he began the slow journey up to Madam Pomfrey.

The corridors never seemed so long. The worn stone seemed to stretch forever in every direction, and the patches of new replacement that had been magically colored to blend with the rest but was still, after nearly twenty years, too rough edged to quite match. He used it to keep track of distance.

When free period was over, students rushed around, trying to get to their next class on time and still finding ways to torment him. They purposely bumped into him, dropped insults and jeers, hissed threats to do worse.

"Hey Malfoy. Getting another history lesson?"

Scorpius closed his eyes and continued inching along the halls, the windows splashing gray November light on his skin. Only twenty-two days more to Christmas holiday.

"Well? Are you too scared to speak?"

About now, Scorpius wished he had speech. He'd jinx them, curse them maybe. They could taste rat piss. Or slugs. Yes, slugs was an appealing thought.

His shoelaces decided to tie together and he tripped. He hit the ground heavily on his shoulder, listening to the very small sound telling him his arm was no longer in its socket.

He was close to crying in pain now as its blaring response joined a cascade of pain, easing to his feet without his hands, shuffling out into the courtyard. It was freezing, the ground solid and leaves crackling underfoot as he crossed the stone yard to a tree and leaned his shoulder against the rough, welcome bark.

"Aw, look, he's a tree-hugge-What's he doing? God, that's gross! His arm was all limp and then..."

He finished rolling the dead weight of his arm back into its socket, the pain caused by it worth the relief. He raised his hand to his rib again and continued his walk to the infirmary.

"That...That..." The girl seemed at a loss for words. "That's new," she finished lamely as he passed out of earshot.

James was at his side with Albus as he turned a corner.

"Score!" He paused. "Okay, who is it this time? I'll go kick his ass up between his ears and make him taste horse shit every time he swallows."

The creative and swearing-ridden threat (Or, to be more accurate, prediction) made Scorpius grin despite the way him taste blood inside his mouth.

James dashed off with a "Stay here!"

Scorpius blinked at Albus as James ran up to a few relatives/friends, said something and went off elsewhere. Those friends immediately trained an eye on him.

"Oh my," Victoire said, slowly covering her younger sister's eyes. Dominique was apparently fascinated, as she pulled her sister's slim hand away to stared with wide eyes.

Scorpius looked at Al again with a questioning look.

"What?"

Scorpius tilted his head at Victoire.

"What about them?"

He sighed, turning away to look at the window, hoping to catch his reflection.

Oh. Oh wow. No wonder she was blocking her sister's sight. Her face was almost completely bruised, odd shades of purple, green and black all overlapping. His cheeks were bloodstained where the skin over his cheekbones had broken, he had two black eyes, and when he grinned slightly, his teeth were tinted red from where the insides of his cheeks had been cut on his own teeth, and probably a broken tooth.

Usually only his torso looked like this. A face was too obvious, and so was a cracked rib and broken arm. Apparently, Slytherins weren't all masters of subtlety after all.

"Heavens above!"

He knew who that was. Scorpius slowly turned to look at headmistress McGonagall.

"What happened, boy?"

He shrugged his good shoulder.

Good was a relative term, anyway. It was his good shoulder compared to his other one, which was screaming pain over his clothes and carrying the weight of a broken arm.

"I'll find out later. Come on. Let's get you patched up." She placed a hand against his shoulderblade, slowly guiding him through the halls.

Now the Headmistress was there, the students only looked upset, not gleeful. Poster-boy was hurt. Oh no! That was horrible! Who would do such a thing? After all, it's not like he was the most easily recognized child of a Death Eater, meaning they could be prejudged without knowing him. Free pain outlet, just punch/jinx/trip/etc.

The corridors passed much more swiftly, and Scorpius found himself outside the infirmary, staring at the door as the Headmistress knocked.

The door opened inward and Madam Pomfrey, tucking her white hair into a bun, looked at them. "Yes-Merlin's beard!"

And before he knew it, he was sitting on a bed, his forearm was knitting itself together, and his face felt less painful by the second.

"If you could just...If I know this style of damage, he's been hit in the belly," she told McGonagall. Scorpius pulled off his cloak, removing the sweater and white button-up of the uniform. It took a few minutes, since his hands weren't cooperating and he was slow from pain.

"Oh, and a rib too." Madam Pomfrey touched the tip of her wand to the odd shape of the almost broken rib.

Scorpius looked down at himself. He didn't have an ounce of muscle, only thin by luck of metabolism. His torso was all purples, blacks, green, even something that looked a bit blue.

"But who would do such a thing...Scorpius! Do you know who it was?"

Scorpius took slow deep breaths, glad of the fixed rib.

"Scorpius."

If he told, two Houses would come down with vengeance. If he didn't, there was only Prick Birch and whatever occasional person he dragged in.

Madam Pomfrey ignored her boss, writing details of the injuries in a report. Her quill flashed quickly across the parchment.

"Can I owl your parents, child? Or are we keeping this one a secret too?"

Scorpius quickly shook his head.

Madam Pomfrey sighed, but Headmistress McGonagall's eyes flashed. "What do you mean, this one too? Good heavens, Malfoy! What have you been getting into?" She stood. "I'm going to go inform your parents immediately!"

Scorpius flew to his feet, grabbing her arm, wildly shaking his head. She couldn't. They'd take him out of Hogwarts! And then where would he go? He had to make it through Hogwarts, for his family. If he graduated Gryffindor, he could prove to the world that the Malfoys weren't all bad.

That they didn't need to act like he personally burned down a hospital full of infant orphans and grandmothers.

"What, Mister Malfoy is so important that you don't your parents to know of your treatment? It's nothing to be ashamed of!"

Scorpius could only manage a silent growl. Why couldn't he have been born blind or something instead? There was no way for him to explain to the Headmistress why she couldn't.

She sighed, absentmindedly patting his head. "You have until this evening to write me an essay on why I shouldn't. It will depend on your persuasive techniques. Okay?"

He nodded quickly, mentally groaning at all the homework that meant doing.

"But I am still informing the school. I will not tolerate this behavior in my school!" Her accent bit into him, and she shook him off, walking away.

Scorpius paled. Oh no... They'd think he squealed...

He was going to die, next week. Maybe tomorrow.

Scorpius barely managed to make it through his classes, glancing fearfully over his shoulder in the hallways.

"Hey, what's got you all hyped up?"

Scorpius jumped as James appeared next to him, shaking his head wildly. Albus dashed up.

"Are you okay now? Even some of the other students were worried. You were a mess."

Scorpius nodded slowly.

"So who was this time? Anybody I can do something to? Tie laces together, turn their robes urple?"

Albus asked the question for Scorpius. "Urple?"

He grinned. "Lil' told me about it in her latest letter. Urple is the ugliest combination of pink and purple ever. It hurts the eyes of even girly-girls to look at it. She read about it in a story and then actually did that to a girl in her class. Apparently, it worked."

Albus, probably just out of surprise, applauded his sister's magical attempt. Scorpius just thought.

Seriously. What sort of girl was their sister?

In his next class, History of Magic, (Which was apparently _always_ the Goblin Rebellions and Giant Wars, with capitalization) he sat next to Albus and tried to imagine this mysterious third Potter.

He scribbled notes in his journal. Father-Brown-black hair, green eyes, tall, pale. Mother-Chestnut red, brown eyes, ?, pale.

Well, that made no sense. He knew eye colors but he didn't know height?

Rolling his eyes at himself, he continued his writing.

Brown was the most common eye color and green was the least. He knew the Weasley side had eye colors all over the place, which meant it could be anything from that end.

Red, despite being a least common hair color, was a dominate hair color in the Weasley side.

However, the Weasley family had mostly consisted of sons for the last several generations.

Therefore, it was likely that this mysterious Lil' was either dark-haired or blond, probably blue or brown-eyed, and was an apparent tomboy, or at least standing close to the line of gender definition.

And she was coming to Hogwarts when?

Scorpius let out a silent sigh, already imagining what that would be like. The castle would be turned upside-down and inside out, she, James and Fred would probably prank everybody until it became predictable, and dinners would never be polite again. Belching Christmas songs. Scorpius could do part of Christmas At Hogwarts himself, but if James constant praise was any clue...

Scorpius barely restrained a grin. Oh what fun those years would be.

Albus slid a piece of paper to him.

_That's James' look. What are you planning?_

_**Nothing. **_

Albus raised an eyebrow but declined a comment, instead resting his head on hands, watching Professor Binns talk. It was a monotonous drawl that went on and on and on... Professor Binns never paused for air or to glance at notes.

At some point, Scorpius started counting the number of times he said the word goblin. By the time the class ended, he had a sheet of tally marks. Six hundred and thirteen.

Standing with a silent yawn and a stretch, Scorpius picked up his bag. He'd completely forgotten about McGonagall and what she'd planned, and the bullying incident was in the back of his mind, happy to be ignored.

"Come on. James has Quidditch practice. Let's go to the library. I have a Charms essay."

Scorpius nodded. He had an essay or six himself.

The library was a huge room. Tall bookcases in all directions, reaching to the ceiling, which he was sure had to be fifty feet high. The room always seemed twice as big on the inside as the outside let you think it was. Combine with muted lighting and the creepy I-Know-Exactly-Who-Was-Talking-When-But-I'm-A-Bitch-Anyway librarian, and it was a bit spooky.

Scorpius loved it. It was like home.

Let it not be said that Malfoy manor was a cheerful place, or so help him, he'd start putting black eyeliner on the House-Elves.

Sitting down at a table, the two began laying out their things. Parchment, quills, ink, notes.

"I have a Charms essay, three in Potions, something-or-other for Defense Against The Dark Arts...Do you remember if there's anything for Transfiguration? I think there was something about a rat."

Scorpius shrugged, starting on his essay for Headmistress McGonagall. In his best handwriting, he wrote seventeen inches of reasoning why she couldn't tell his parents.

That took him about forty-five minutes. Everything goes faster when there's no notes to look at. He stopped and read it over, and realized that despite his wording, it boiled down to a few things.

One, he was doing this for his parents. Their name was still heavily tainted twenty years later and he had decided, as his parents only child, to clear it.

Two, he was a fucking coward. He was scared of the disapproval of his father and grandfather when they heard he didn't suck it up after getting beat up. He was scared of going home, seeing other students on the street and getting laughed at by them.

Three, telling his parents meant also telling officials, which meant Birch would get caught and everyone _else_ would gang up on him.

After a quick spelling check, Scorpius jumped up and ran out of the library, much to the librarian's dismay, and down the halls. Thankfully, nobody was around at the time, so he made it all the way to the statues outside the Headmistress's office in no time.

"Halt!"

He looked at the gargoyle statue.

"Speak the password," the voice said. Obviously the statue.

He signed something in its face, which translated to 'Here for McGonagall.' McGonagall took a long time to fingerspell.

"What's this you're doing? Oh, never mind."

Scorpius closed his eyes and waited.

"Enter." The statues slid aside, revealing a spiraling staircase, and he began a slow climb.

The Headmistress's office was huge, circular, paintings covering the walls and books everywhere. A single large window sat behind a desk.

"You have the essay, young Malfoy?" McGonagall asked from her desk.

Scorpius nodded and held it out. She took it, unrolled it and nodded, eyes skimming. Scorpius stood uneasily, hands held behind his back as he waited to be dismissed. Around him, paintings talked and slept, sometimes walking from the frame to other paintings around the school. Some of them, though, sat perfectly still, watching him. Blank eyes, disapproving eyes, calm eyes. Mostly though, a general lack of emotion.

"He hasn't spoken once," one finally said. "Not even a yes ma'am! No respect, have ye, young un?"

He looked at the stern-eyed elderly man staring from his painting, arms crossed. Then he shook his head.

"Hum? I'm sorry. I was asleep, wasn't I? Oh, I recognize that hair. You'd be a Malfoy, correct?"

Scorpius looked up slowly.

The portrait was of an elderly gentleman with stunning blue eyes and long white hair and beard. His spectacles were painted firmly in place, but he reached up to them in what must have been a life-habit.

Albus Dumbledore.

If Scorpius could speak, he would have stumbled over his own tongue at that moment. The man imprinted on every textbook of the Wizarding Wars. Albus Potter wasn't the only boy with his name. Everyone wanted a son as shrewd as him, as wise, as clever, as high-ranking, as...Everything.

Even though Scorpius knew, through all his reading and listening, that he was a bit of a manipulating bastard, he'd known. Dumbledore had known the consequence of his actions, beyond the effects he wanted. Some papers and even books theorized that Dumbledore had set Harry up to die. That was a bit much, since there didn't seem to be any good reason, but looking at the closest to the living man, Scorpius got the uncomfortable feeling there was even more behind the scenes than even those who fought and died at the Battle of Hogwarts knew.

"Ah, yes, I'd know that face anywhere. You must be Scorpius then."

Flustered, he examined his sneakers.

"The young mute. Te-" He laughed at himself. "Well. Maybe you could write. How is your education?"

Scorpius turned his hands in a 'well, you see,' gesture, but McGonagall spoke.

"I'm afraid, Albus, that his might be a rather small one."

Albus peered past the flustered student to his former professor. "And why is that?"

She slowly put down the essay.

"If he can't speak a spell, is there much use in learning it? He writes wonderful essays on them, the etymology, the uses, but he can't put any of that to use." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Scorpius. I shouldn't be talking like this in front of you."

Scorpius shrugged. He'd heard this already. Not the least when he was four and his parents were shouting at the Healer. His mother was very good at shouting.

Dumbledore adjusted his glasses. "I haven't heard, being in this painting and all. What was the cause of this disability?"

"His umbilical cord at birth was wrapped around his neck and deformed vocal cords. It's down on paper as a "severe speech impediment," though. Lucius's insistence. Apparently, even that's better than straight up mute." She snorted.

Scorpius blinked, shocked. Tilting his head at McGonagall, he gave her a questioning look.

"Oh, don't-Merlin's beard! That man! You believed that?"

Scorpius looked down at the ground as he nodded. He'd liked the idea. Impediment meant he could get better, and Merlin knew he was given enough therapies when he was younger, hoping to give him a chance at the key to magic.

She gave him a sorrowful look, then finished the last few inches of the essay. Scorpius inspected the floor.

So he was a plain old mute. Joy. Damn his grandfather! (More than he already was, anyway.) Leading him on, letting him stare at the far off idea that one day he could talk to others instead of clumsy signs and facial expressions.

He looked down at his wand, hanging from his belt, in disgust. It was just a useless piece of wood now, he realized. One that he'd stood in a line for an hour, wide-eyed and smiling only two months ago, to buy.

He walked around the in-use area of the office in what looked like a meandering path, looking at trinkets and papers and looking at the portrait expressions as he passed. They varied, some not caring, others scowling, some curious. The one next to the window ignored him in favor of scowling at the curtain that kept blowing gently across his view. Severus Snape. Scorpius stopped at the window, drew his wand, and holding the end between thumb and first finger, dangled it out in midair. Gravity, from this height, would cause it to shatter on the walkway below into splinters good only for matches, if that.

"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy! That, child, is a bit dramatic!" McGonagall snapped. Scorpius shrank.

Dumbledore's eyes gleamed, brushstroked that they were. "Oh, don't be so hard on him. But really. Save your wand. You'll need it, maybe in a year or two."

Scorpius gave him a "Yeah right" look, but withdrew his hand, looking at the willow wand. It almost seemed to give him an upset glare.

He sighed, a wistful rush of air.

"Go downstairs, Mister Malfoy. Dinner is in half an hour."

He left the office, putting the wand back in his holder and then suddenly dashed down the stairs. His things were all back in the library and he hadn't even thought of starting his other homework.

"Hey, where's the fire?"

Scorpius skidded long enough to sign something to Professor Longbottom and kept on running.

At the doors to the library, he skidded, leaving marks down the floor, and slowly pushed open the door, sliding in quietly.

Al was guarding his things, packing up his own.

"Here, Score." He tossed a few scrolls his way. "I did your Potions and Transfiguration homework. You can copy it over in your own handwriting later."

Al decisively closed his bag. "And don't complain or thank me, I was going to do it anyway, after you got hurt earlier."

Scorpius blinked down at the rolls of parchment and shoved them in his bag, arranging them around the cheap blue spiral-bound Muggle journal and small collection of pencils building at the bottom of the bag. As pretty and nice quill and ink were, they weren't quick to write with, they spilled, they dripped, you couldn't use them while in any form of transportation, you sometimes had to stop in the middle of a word to reink, etc. A pencil you just had to sharpen and go, and besides. You could erase. As for the journal, well... It blended in with the Muggle world, it wouldn't be conspicuous in the Wizard world either, you could buy them by the dozen, and it kept all the paper bound up in an easy to carry around form. There, done. And if his grandfather complained, he could shove it up his ass.

Zipping the bag shut, he quickly followed Al out, not willing to be caught alone in the library or halls.

The halls were filling with students trying to get to the Great Hall earlier, like it would make a difference whether they got there on time or fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. Laughter and chatter began to ring down the stone corridors, a sound that never quite faded, even during the late midnights that Scorpius occasionally sat up, sitting in the portrait hole, with only himself and the moving stairs for company. Once prefects were in from patrols, the school halls were empty of any living human, but as long as he was quiet and kept his ears open, he could hear sounds, soft and faded. Whispers of things that no longer were. Echoes of footsteps whose owners were long gone. And the quiet calling of a ghost nightkeeper, forever patrolling with his only friend, a cat.

Scorpius took a seat at the Gryffindor table, watching Al sit at Slytherin. Fred Weasley the second (The sequel, he jokingly called himself) sat down with a thump. "Hey Scoreboard!"

Scorpius rolled his eyes at the nickname, ignoring the just-dark-enough-to-be-noticeable arm draped over his shoulders.

"So how'd you do that one trick again? The one where it looked like you put your arm back? It was cool and I want to freak my sister out."

Scorpius glanced at Fred's sister, Roxanne, sitting at the Hufflepuff table. The sixth year could be rather cruel to his fourth year sister, but it was apparently normal for them to laugh off Fred's jokes and tricks together. Fred and James got along well.

"Here." He dropped a piece a paper in front of him. Scorpius quickly scribbled a reply.

_**You'd have to dislocate your arm first. Hold still.**_

He dragged Fred's arm off his shoulders, twisting it slightly.

"Hey!" Fred jerked his arm away. "Okay, I get it. Bad trick?"

Scorpius nodded. Then he carefully folded the paper and tore it at the fold, ripping the writing into tiny pieces.

"Oh, confetti. Nice, I'll take that!" Fred promptly took the pieces, pointed his wand at them with a whispered spell, and tossed them at a group of young girls with a "Happy Holidays!"

They turned into droplets of a strange purple goo that splattered all over them, sending up a powerful stench. Cue screeches of outrage.

Well, for thirty seconds, it wasn't bad, but it really could have been bet-

"Look what you did to my..." She looked down at her robe again in mid-angry speech, directed at the two of them. The goo had faded away, leaving a pretty blue design decorating her robes. The other girls admired similar patterns in their own House colors.

"Fred Weasley!" a voice snapped. They all looked fearfully at Hannah Longbottom, head of Hufflepuff House. Then her eyes softened. "I don't know whether to deduct points for the goo or add them for the inspiration for the decorations."

'_Decorations?__'_

With that statement, the kind woman stepped up onto the teacher dais, sitting in her spot as the flying teacher at Hogwarts.

Scorpius looked at Fred, thin eyebrows raised.

"You didn't think I'd be that cruel to a group of little girls, did you?"

Scorpius nodded bluntly.

"Well I'm not!"

Rolling his eyes, Scorpius faced forward on the bench, staring at the floor.

Names were carved into stones, the places where the dead had been laid during the battles. Hogwarts could easily be compared to an oversized war museum.

As students slowly began to file in, Scorpius thought of what the Houses were supposed to represent, since he couldn't add much to any current conversations.

...Huh. For a house that represented loyalty, honesty, patience and hard work, they sure gave him some heated glares.

To figure out that mystery, he pulled out his journal and scribbled. Doodles and small word fragments spattered over the page as he thought.

He finally hit on it as he drew a lion rearing. It was they represented, and what they thought he did. He was their opposite. Betrayer, liar, shirker. Patient, maybe, but that wasn't very redeeming. He was their opposite, and therefore a danger, an evil, something in the way of a peaceful world.

No wonder they hated him. He was their opposite, and he had an extremely rich family.

Still scribbling, he tried to work his way around the hatred from the other three Houses.

Ravenclaw were history buffs, so they would known all about the atrocities of the wars and the odd, twisted reasoning behind it. He was an easily recognizable face to attach their anger, disbelief and fear to. Slytherin was full of Death Eater children and grandchildren. Most of them no longer had those relatives. He, out of all of them, still had a grandmother, a grandfather, a father, and they didn't. Jealousy, and as his earlier "teachers" had said, his family had betrayed Voldemort, by running during the final battle.

Gryffindor, well, that was easy. He turned to a new sheet and began sketching a lion in the same pose as the quick doodle. Gryffindor had been the House of many of the fallen; it was the House of Harry Potter; it honored bravery, nerve, daring, chivalry. None of which were traits one would assign to a Death Eater.

Shading in the underbelly, he almost smiled. Knowing the issue was the first step to solving.

So what he had to do was prove he was no threat to the Hufflepuff values, that he wasn't like his predecessors. He had to live up to his House. There was nothing he could do for Slytherin at the moment, so that would just have to let that sit for a while.

The shading got lighter near the edge, and he carefully shaded the mane with individual lines, leaving a large blank space for the shine.

Then he added to it. A snake, using the swinging tail to curl around and balance as he reared back to strike at an unseen enemy. A badger bearing its teeth from the lion's hind legs, blood dripping from its teeth. An eagle hovered low, near the lion's head, ready to fly back into the fray. Blood, in twin thin ribbons, flowed from the wings.

He added blood on the lion's bared canines and claws.

Hm... But what were they attacking?

His pencil shaded the other side of a page pure black, adding a body to the floor of the drawing.

Satisfied, he tore it out. The students around him were watching McGonagall stand up for an announcement.

Oh no...

His stomach dropped out into the kitchens below. He slowly followed it down, sliding underneath the table.

He listened to the speech, holding his breath.

"It has come to my attention the mistreat..."

That was the part where he blocked her voice out and listened to the meaning behind it. She'd noticed, she was disappointed, and she'd be keeping an eye out. There was a little implication that she knew who it was, just to draw the person out.

McGonagall had not been young in a long time, or she wouldn't have tried that.

He could hear the rustle of fabric as they unobtrusively rubbernecked around for him. It took a moment, but someone finally saw him crouched between the table and bench.

"Get up," they hissed. "Show some pride for your house, you prat."

He inched onto the bench again, keeping his head ducked.

"As you can see, he is healed now. But some of you saw him earlier. As you may know, it was horrendous."

And on, something about safety and the Ministry getting involved if no one came forward, etcetera etcetera.

When it finally was over, the entire room looked at him. He could feel their eyes, outright watching him. They were waiting for his reaction.

He kept his head down, displaying shame to the world. The wood of the tabletop was dark and well-shined, a thin reflection of gray eyes staring back, an outline of slicked back white-blond hair. He avoided the mirror eyes and waited for the silence to pass.

Food appeared on the table, breaking it. Talk began, slowly, as people served themselves and their neighbors, passing dishes to those who couldn't reach. Scorpius' stomach turned, and he stood, using the bustle to slide out unnoticed.

The empty halls echoed his footsteps back to his ears, and he imagined some student, one day, hearing his footsteps late at night.

"Oh, hello."

Scorpius nodded to Sir Nicholas in return. The ghost of Gryffindor was inspecting the suits of armor lining the halls. Apparently, some of the suits hadn't worked as well as they could have during the Battle of Hogwarts, and so Sir Nick had taken it upon himself to constantly inspect them and make sure they were ready Just In Case.

"If I may, young Gryffindor. The elbow on this suit needs oiling, but..." Sir Nicholas held out his hands grievously.

Rather than disappoint his House ghost, Scorpius nodded.

"Thank you! There's a container in that closet over there." He pointed to a door, wood undecorated.

Scorpius made a turning motion with his hand.

"What? Oh, it's not locked. In fact, I saw two people entering..." As he talked, Scorpius walked over, dragging open the heavy door.

Two older students were inside, mouths locked and bodies pressed together. The male was running his hands on the girl's upper body, handling places that he was sure you weren't supposed to...

They stared at him.

"Um..."

He grabbed the can of oil and slammed the door.

"Oh, sorry about that," Sir Nick said loftily.

Scorpius, under the direction of his House ghost, applied oil to the joint. Behind him, he heard the door drag across the stones as the couple left their hiding spot.

Scorpius then pointed at them, the closet, and gave Sir Nick a questioning glance.

"What? Oh. You don't get...Oh, honestly, young Gryffindor! Do you not get why they were in there?"

Scorpius shook his head slowly.

Sir Nick coughed uncomfortably. "Well, you see, when people start to grow up, they start to...Change...A little...They start to...Um...It's related to reproduction, child. I'm not honestly sure how to explain this to you in age-appropriate terms."

Scorpius turned a little red, nodded quickly and dashed off. That was embarrassing.

The stairs moved in their constant tangle over his head as he waited for his to arrive. Really, at this rate, he might as well had taken the normal entrance.

A stair dropped into place before him and he hopped onto the first step, sweeping his robe out of the way as the stair nearly clipped another.

The long ride up, Scorpius looked at the hall. Once upon a time, there had been paintings everywhere. Now, many of them were removed or plain old gone. It made the Gryffindor secret entrance feel a bit more conspicuous, but nobody ever seemed to notice. The paintings were gone. So what. They were just going to fade one day anyway, and then they'd be useless to everybody. Scorpius was pretty sure he was the only one to actually notice that things weren't as parents said.

His stair finally slid into place at his stop with a shudder. He quickly stepped onto the balcony, frowning at how heavy his backpack felt, and walked up the short route to the Fat Lady.

"Oh! Hello, honey! My, you're here early again. What have I told you? Skipping meals is bad!"

Scorpius, ignoring her constant talk, signed the password.

"Sorry, Scorpius! That's not the password anymore, remember? The Prefects told the new one to everyone this morning!"

Scorpius sighed. And once again, they hadn't told him.

"Oh, alright. Since they did again. It's..." She glanced around. Scorpius stepped closer. "Aquarius," she whispered.

Scorpius grinned and signed it. The Fat Lady gleefully repeated it to herself as the painting swung open. Stepping through the low entrance, he sighed as the warmth of the common room washed over him.

It was decorated entirely in scarlet and gold, tapestries hanging from the walls, an especially elaborate one over the fireplace. The fireplace was still lit and the wind sighed outside the windows. The darkness overhead, where the light of the fireplace couldn't penetrate, was a warm darkness, friendly.

Looking at the many comfortable chairs and couches, Scorpius shoved another log into the fireplace, watching it blaze to greater life. Then he sat on one of the couched and unzipped his backpack.

Albus' pet ferret stared at him.

His ferret, being a young ferret, was under the opinion that all warm places were its domain to nap in when it was tired of following its owner where it wasn't supposed to go. Apparently, his backpack was on that list.

He waved as it peered over the edge at the new playspace, then scurried out.

Deciding to return it later, he dumped out the other contents.

He sorted through them, putting the necessary items back. The rest he gathered up. With them in one hand and backpack in other, he trekked upstairs as he heard the other students talking outside the entrance.

He shared a dormitory with three other boys. One, Sean Creevy, the son of Dennis Creevy, hated him, and Scorpius couldn't blame him. He lost the uncle he never knew at the Battle of Hogwarts.

Sean didn't hate him in the "I'm going to curse you until your guts spill out on the floor" way. He hated him in the "I'm going to constantly ignore you" way. That was a way Scorpius could put up with just fine.

The other two were twins, Michael and Rafael Carpenter. Serious-faced and devout Christian wizards, he avoided them as best as he could. As a pureblood wizard, religion was one thing he just didn't get along with completely from instinct. Some small part of his instincts remembered ancestors (Most female, to add bang for buck. Looking through lines had found that magic passed more readily through female lines. Therefore, any family trying to truly keep their magic going wished for a girl) getting burned alive and was not willing to join them in the name of any god.

Closing the draperies on his bed, he looked at the things. Broken pencil, scraps of paper, this morning's newspaper, a letter from his mother. He tossed the useless things first, then opened the letter.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_Guess what? She said her first word today! It was scorpion! Your little sister nearly said your name!_

_I'm so proud of Chione! We shared a biscuit between us to celebrate. Of course, your father only had that smug smile of his (Her second word was drake. So close...) but your grandmother was practically hugging little Chione to death! She didn't even mind when she got chocolate biscuit in her hair. _

_Unfortunately, Lucius ruined it with a speech about how he finally had an effective child and things like that. That man, I swear..._

_Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm rambling. Well, either way, it's been a slow day. The birds have gone, the garden's empty, and you haven't written back except once in October! _

_Again I'm sorry we didn't send a birthday gift (and that I haven't written for two weeks). It wasn't something we could send by owl. I can see it from where I'm writing right now, and I think you'll like it. _

_We're planning to redecorate your bedroom. I say planning, because we're not sure what to do. You never sent us the announcement that you made it into Slytherin, which has us worried. We had to come up with two design plans because of it. Slytherin and Ravenclaw. (Obviously, a Malfoy would never be in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor) Please tell us which it is..._

Scorpius stopped reading, then picked up the newspaper he'd swiped at breakfast, unwilling to read farther. His mother's letters were always long and rambling, and on occasion slightly depressing.

He'd taken the newspaper for the comics. So he opened it, flipped through. He hadn't made it far into the Daily Prophet, however, when he saw an interesting headline.

"The Thirty-Fifth Murder"

The word murder could be compared to a train wreck. It's horrifying and sickening and you really don't want to know or see, but you keep staring anyway, just because.

Scorpius read the article.

Of course, he knew vaguely of the murders. Every child did. It was the reason, out in public, parents kept their young witches and wizards so close. They didn't want to lose them.

But thirty-five in nineteen years?

To Muggles, thirty-five murders wasn't actually that much. But one had to put it in perspective. To the wizarding population, that was like thirty-five-_hundred_ murders. The reason they could keep themselves so hidden was that there was always such a tiny percent of wizards, compared to Muggles. It was the reason three large-scale and nine small-scale schools were all that was needed to school the entire European-Russian magic population. Throughout the world, there was probably no more than fifty or sixty total schools of magic. They were just that small.

The terrifying thing was, no one could figure out the link between all the murders. Why those people, and not others? Why this elderly gentleman, then this young infant?

There was one way to know they were all connected. The message: The tainted blood shall be purged.

Scorpius read the article, eyes wide, then set it down, and hurriedly finished his mother's letter.

_...So we can order supplies. If we don't know by Saturday, we're going to assume Slytherin. _

_I hope the other students haven't been treating you too harshly. We haven't received any letters from the school nurse, but since you haven't reported anything either, it just makes me worried you're hiding it from us. _

_How has your education been going? Have you been learning lots? I know that spells might not be of much use to you, but Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, and Potions certainly can be, so study hard for those classes! _

_Oh, I'm switching back and forth so much! My mind just can't stay on one track! Chione is currently babbling scorpion as she bangs a toy against the wall. I'll have to stop her before her grandfather gets angry. That's his study she's knocking on!_

_Oh, never mind. He dealt with it himself. In a rather strange way, for him, I might add. He swept her up in a hug, saying something, and took her into his study. He was talking with a client and everything!_

_I'm listening in. They brought up grandchildren. Oh, that's his scheme!_

_I'm babbling again. You must be tired of reading this, so I'll stop writing now._

_I love you lots,_

_Mother_

Scorpius set the letter down, looking at the ferret that was currently digging in his stash of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes candy. Dragging it out, he wrestled one that was an odd purple shade from its animal grip, he grinned. Dang, his sister was a goof! Talk about an older brother complex!

"Hey, Score. Albus is looking for his... Oh, you found her. Come on, Phe." He took the ferret. "She didn't eat any of that, did she?" James asked. Scorpius shrugged.

"Oh. Gee. Great. By the way, you have the start of a fanclub downstairs. Apparently, some girls think you're so brave for enduring so much!" He said the last part of the line in a falsetto voice, fluttering his lashes. Setting the ferret Splash on his shoulder, he leaned in. "And another thing. Someone apparently found this awesome drawing of the four House embalms attacking something. Fred says you drew it. True or no?"

Eartips red, he nodded.

James ran off.

"Guys! Scorpius admitted to drawing it! Anyone want to test him?"

Half an hour, four drawings and some admiring looks from a few girls later (The last part was new. He turned red, and stayed that way, for the entire time) he got to retreat back to his room.

"I bet you think you're so grand." Sean Creevy's first words to him. "You've got fans for a few pencil lines."

Scorpius shook his head.

But Sean had turned away.

Scorpius drew something from the front pocket of his backpack. It was a hair-ribbon, deep purple, plain. To the touch, it felt like water, being made of silk.

He wound and unwound it through his hands, taking deep breaths.

Scorpius did this often. There was something about that little act of kindness that always helped him smile, if sadly.

And sometimes, as he did this, he wondered what Lily was like. Was she like any cliché little girl? Or was she boyish? What was her family like? She said she had older brothers, but they could be anyone, considering the Hogwarts red-head population. Was she as empathetic as she seemed on the train? Was she happy right now? Or did she miss her brothers?

Rolling onto his stomach, he tied Lily's ribbon around his neck and penned a letter to his mother.

_Dear Mother,_

_Things are okay here at Hogwarts. Most people aren't kind, but they just usually avoid me. I have a few friends, remember? I mentioned that last letter. The staff is slowly adapting to my disability, and I'm studying hard. Care of Magical Creatures is more of an activity than a class, I'd thought I'd mention. _

_I'm happy to hear about Chione. Tell her I'll be back soon and give her a hug from me. I'm sorry I haven't written..._

And on, white lies to appease his mother. At the end, he dipped his quill, stared at the letter, and before he could regret it, wrote

_P.S. The reason I haven't told you my house is because I thought you'd be ashamed, so don't tell Father or Grandfather. I'm in Gryffindor._

_P.P.S. Please don't disown me. I'd be dead in a week._

Then he shoved it aside to his fluttering stomach and opened his journal, writing yet another letter to the owner of the ribbon around his throat.

_Dear Lily,_

_I know you aren't going to read these, but I find it comforting to keep writing them. Thank you, for the...Hold on, I'm counting-eighty-seventh time, for the ribbon. It helps me through my daily life much more than anything. Today, Birch gave me another "history lesson" and he brought in a guest "teacher." I got a cracked rib..._

Rubbing the ribbon, he slowly twined it through his fingers, falling asleep with it hopelessly entangled around his hand.


	4. Chapter 3: Of Pudding

Yes, I'm taking forever to add Lily. I'm really trying to get a lot of background in here for the series I'm planning for this. Also, I might have to change the summary, so heads up.

There is an important author's note at the end.

* * *

The class, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw (All of Slytherin first years, excluding Albus, developed purple boils. Coincidentally, they had insulted Gryffindor house earlier that day), filed outside. Flying lessons. Something Scorpius hated missing out on. Just watching all the other kids, faces in grins or eyes focused on some far-off object, or screaming in fear and exhilaration.

And he'd sit on the ground and tamp down jealousy. He wasn't allowed on the brooms. Apparently it required verbal commands. Even the good fliers and the Quidditch teams had to at least whisper commands to get off the ground. And besides. As Instructor Hannah Longbottom told him kindly, she "Wasn't very comfortable having a student unable to signal distress in the air."

He dragged himself outside, spotting McCoy signing small things to herself. Watching them, he was surprised at her language. He didn't some of those were real words!

Watching his fellow first years lining up, he stood to the side, McCoy standing next to him. She faced him.

_Hi._

_Hi_, he signed back.

_This sucks._

He only nodded in reply.

The class waited with baited breath for Hannah. Instead, a gray-haired woman stepped onto the grounds. Her yellow eyes traced the children as she finished fastening on heavy leather arm guards and gloves. Her gaze reminded Scorpius of the hawk he saw an Auror use as a post bird once, and he looked at the ground.

"Good morning, class! I am Rolanda Hooch. As Hannah Longbottom is sick this week, I've been asked to take time out of my valuable retirement to teach you all. So, let's call it a review today. Mount up!"

The air instantly filled with the shouts of "UP!"

A pair of leather boots stood in front of him. "Well? Malfoy?"

He looked up in surprise.

"You two must be the special students. Well. Get a broom."

Scorpius only stared in shock.

Rolanda stared in return. "Oh don't tell me-You haven't done a damn thing, have you? They all thought you were both-"

They nodded to cut her off.

Rolanda stalked past, into the building. When she returned a moment later, she was carrying three brooms, all of which were in better shape and had a touch more flash than the Hogwarts brooms.

"Hey, do we get those?" A girl rolled on her broom before their temporary instructor.

"No. Stay upright!"

She tossed a broom to the two stunned children and held the third. "Well? Pick them up!"

Scorpius and McCoy scrambled to obey. He glanced at her translator, where the words finished appearing. Hooch's body language has said more than that scrap of parchment.

Around them, the students tried to watch and fly at the same time.

"What I want you to do-put them down next to you, for one. Good. Now." She held McCoy's hand over the broom, then stepped in front of them, speaking quietly. "Concentrate. Think of what you want the broom to do, then direct that thought out."

Scorpius closed his eyes and thought the word _Up._ Nothing happened.

Well, that was to be expected, right? Nothing worked on the first try. He took a deep breath, then thought again, adding a touch of force. Nope.

Direct the thought out...

He imagined the word as a blue pool of water, imagining it trailing down through his arm and splashing down onto the handle of the broomstick.

Something solid slapped into his palm.

In surprise, thinking something had been dropped, he opened his eyes.

Two broomsticks, held tight in child grips, floating off the ground.

He looked at McCoy. She had a shocked and yet pleased expression, much like his own.

Hooch waved a hand.

"Now mount up!"

He threw his leg over the length of wood, kicking off the ground like he'd seen the other students do. He rose.

"Right! Let's see you all fly through those hoops over there!" Hooch called, voice rising high above the wind. Her arm pointed to a set of floating hoops, set in random places across the sky and grounds.

The class swooped in to obey, or at least tried.

She faced them again. Signaling with a large handwave to follow her, their instructor took off. Scorpius and McCoy followed.

Concentrating on the wide turns she was starting with, Scorpius knew, even if he never took to the air again, he would never forget this moment. The wind rushing past him, whipping his hair in his eyes and numbing his skin, the sky above, the horizon of rolling hills, and nothing stopping him.

Instructor Hooch led them through a series of sharp turns, and here Scorpius was glad of the ground-time he'd had. He'd been able to see others mistakes and imagine what could have been done better. That thinking kept him upright as he struggled to turn and bank.

Then she whirled around, pointing at the series of hoops the other children struggled with. Hannah had mostly set them loose, calling tips to students in need. Hooch required them to test themselves. The idea of beating all of them didn't need to cross his mind; it had a front row seat.

He zoomed through. Obviously, he didn't make all of them, but he made it through half the hoops in order, and that was better than most of them.

The one who beat everyone, however, was Albus. The young Potter had been raised in a family so Quidditch obsessed, he'd probably been able to fly before he could walk. (Probably. James' memory had been sketchy on that detail) He zipped gracefully through the course, never missing one.

At the end, he rolled, righted, turned in several circles and came to a stop right next to Scorpius. Cue Potter grin. "That was fun!"

Clapping, a slow rhythm, came from their right. "Good show, Mister Potter. You're as good as your father! Better, I might say."

Albus blushed, looking at Instructor Hooch. "I...Um...I-I-I had an unfair advantage. Mum took me for flights when I was little."

"Getting taken for a flight doesn't mean anythin', Potter!" a girl yelled. "It's the difference between riding in a car and driving!"

The exact meaning went over Scorpius's head, but the meaning was sound. He gave Albus an agreeing look.

Hooch apparently also agreed. Though her sharp eyes lingered on the green of his robe, she told the dark-haired boy, "You'd make a valuable addition to any team."

Scorpius watched Albus flush to a very famous shade of blush-Weasley. His face turned a shade of purple, making freckles no one knew he had stand out strong.

'_Distraction... Distraction...' _Scorpius glanced around, then slid his hand into his pocket.

What he pulled out was a small fragile statue of a snake made of glass or crystal. His grandfather had given it to him. He could afford to lose it.

He waved one hand, catching McCoy's attention, and flashed a few words. She grinned and began to try a few spins and tricks, before suddenly rushing forward, losing control and smashing straight into Scorpius. The statue fell from his grip.

"_It's been in the family for six generations. Don't you dare break or lose it."_

Suddenly regretting the decision, he dove after the statue. Albus, realizing what he'd just been saved from, dove too. Scorpius let the better flier overtake him, though he kept his descent.

The image of an angry and disapproving Lucius Malfoy flew into his mind, he let out a silent cry and lost all pretense of braking. He dropped, hand closing over the item inches below the ground. He rolled, trying to slow himself. He hit the ground, tumbled, but sat up and waved to the wide-eyed class.

Hooch landed, staring down at him as she crossed leather-covered arms. "I'd give you detention, Malfoy, but Minerva might laugh herself sick. If you please, don't be stupid again." She paused, "If you pull your shoulders in, you'd increase your fall-speed."

Then she marched away.

"Two hundred feet, you survived and no detention?"

Scorpius looked over at Fred. "Scoreboard, you're bloody brilliant!"

"He's bloody insane," Albus countered. "That could have killed him." He dismounted. "I get to write Da home about it!"

"No, I do! I never get to write Uncle Potter!"

Scorpius got up on unsteady legs, picked up his broomstick and looking it over. It looked fine, so he set it against the wall and sat down again.

"So what was that over again?"

Grinning ashamedly, he held out the statue. Fred gave it a glance-over. "Family heirloom?"

He nodded.

"Oh. Can't blame you. I got one of those."

Albus raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Me!"

A small pack of girls giggled nervously.

Scorpius and Albus managed an eyeroll at the exact same time.

This caused them to spot the second group of girls staring at Albus.

Staring.

Doe-eyed.

At Albus.

One, a first-year like most of the little gathering, shoved her way to the front and marched right up to the terrified Potter. Allie Mayfield, Ravenclaw.

"You're amazing," she said breathlessly.

Albus ran for his eleven-year-old life.

Why?

For the reason Scorpius followed. Girls were scary.

~•~

The next day, he got the letter he'd been fearing for more than a week. A terrifying, dark thing, something worse than any wide-eyed girl.

A reply from his mother.

He let Lyra, the owl, nick the rest of his breakfast before flying off. The elderly owl always seemed to be hungry whenever he saw her, so he stopped trying.

Goodbye, toast...

Scorpius trembled slightly as he looked at the tightly rolled scroll, turning it over in his hands. It was waved and distorted, the sign of tears.

Oh no...

He shoved it in his bag and tensed every muscle in his body. He'd save it. Read it during Astronomy. Yes, that was a good idea. Late nights and bad news. At least he'd have a nice view.

The day blurred from there. He remembered distinctly the moment when all the trees in the courtyard decided they were Whomping Willows with a personal grudge, mostly because he broke his arm again and sprained his ankle but wasn't alone. James had muttered angrily about someone out-Maraudering him in the line for the infirmary. It did not bode well.

It was when he was sitting in the Great Hall at dinner that he finally realized that time had ganged up on him. He barely remembered getting here, he had a series of essays in his bag he would swear he didn't write but were in his handwriting, Splash the Ferret had escaped to sit on his things again and he was eating.

It was frankly terrifying.

"And... You okay, Score?"

Scorpius shook his head.

"So what do you think of my idea?"

He looked at James. The third-year looked back at him with worried brown eyes.

"You remember my idea, right?"

Rather than lie (He might miss out on something grand), he shook his head.

"Oh. You okay? Hit your head in the courtyard thing? Or what?"

He shrugged.

"Of course, Christmas Holiday is really close. You going home?"

He started to nod, then shrugged.

If Scorpius's terrified mind was right, he might not ever go home.

What if at this moment they'd called up an orphanage and were going to take him there when he got back? What if they'd written to McGonagall and told her they never wanted his disgraceful name to get on the train at all? What if...

Of course, his family wouldn't "call" an orphanage, per say, but one got the point.

Scorpius looked at the handle of his backpack, where there was a phone number to a squib family member who got to stay on the tree in exchange for being his "I'm lost!" contact number. He'd met her all of once.

Maybe he could stay with her. Then he...

He could do nothing. It wouldn't matter, would it?

"I am! It's my da' turn to organize our Christmas Quidditch game. All the extended families, together for two weeks to play! Only one team can win!"

Scorpius leaned his head on his hand, tapping his fingers.

"Er... Sorry. Well anyway, this year Albus gets to play, so he'll come back either moping or cheery."

More tapping.

Apparently James didn't get the hint, continuing to talk.

"See, for the first games every family is their own team. Luna Scamander, her husband Rolf, Teddy Lupin, Xenophilius, they all join our team. For an old man, Lovegood is a good Beater, you know. So that's how we decide which family is the best that year. Then there's individual competitions, that's how we make two teams of our best, then they beat each other up. Then our captains form into teams and that game always starts on midnight of New Years."

"And the Ron Weasley division will be beat you all."

James grinned at Rose. "No 'e won't. You're all going to lose."

"To the Weasley-Johnsons."

"Fred..."

Scorpius rolled his eyes at the star-covered ceiling.

"You know that we have Albus this year... The Potters will get you back for that humiliating defeat last year."

A few wisps of cloud drifted through the gaze of the spelled ceiling. Frowning, he looked down at Splash, who turned onto her back, a strange animal smile on her face.

To escape the current family rivalry, he picked her up. She yawned, nipped at his fingers with baby teeth. Then she scurried onto his shoulder. He stood and inched over to the Slytherin table.

Instant eye attraction. He gritted his teeth and walked over to where Albus was discussing a class with another first-year.

"Hey, you found Splash."

He pulled the almost-albino off his shoulder (She clung, enjoying her perch) and dropped into the other boy's arms.

Then he headed right back to his spot.

"That ferret has a thing for your backpack."

Scorpius shrugged. James was probably imaging some weird joke.

Rose Weasley was staring at him.

"Why do you talk to him?" she asked.

"Hm? What do you mean, Rosie-Posy?"

"Don't. Call me that. And what I mean is, my dad and Uncle Harry are gonna kill you when they find out. It's okay to help him on the train but he doesn't need to be around you all the time."

James was giving Rose an intense stare. The resemblance to Harry Potter jumped out to Scorpius' eyes.

"Rose Weasley. What the hell are you talking about?"

She wilted now, fiddling with a napkin as dessert finally chose to appear. "I mean, um... He's a Malfoy."

James chose to ignore her. "Sorry you hear this, Score."

Scorpius shrugged. He was used to it. At least she kind enough to look ashamed now.

"No really. She should know better than to bad-mouth people like that. You didn't do anything."

Rose cringed, trying to slide under the table. Gryffindor House was listening in, deeply interested. Because everyone loves family drama.

Scorpius sighed, taking the chance to steal James' dessert.

Argument, round two!

"It's not bad-mouthing if it's true!"

"Why yes, he's a Malfoy. Glad you can learn names now. What's your point?"

"They're all treacherous snakes! He'll use what you've said against you!"

"And do what? It's not like he's a thief or anything."

Scorpius bit his lip, covering his grin.

"James, just this once can I say that you should have looked before speaking?"

"Wh-Oh come on!"

The table burst into laughter against its will.

Scorpius, meanwhile, ate his pudding. James stole a second from Fred, Fred took the time to do wave his wand around under the table, and Rose glowered.

James picked up his pudding a moment. Bad sign. Scorpius did the same, a little more discreetly.

The tables seemed to explode. Food expanded outward, silverware flew upward of its own accord, and strangely, a ferret swam among the mess of food, eating filling from a tart.

Scorpius and his friends sat under the table. While the third-years high-fived, Scorpius borrowed a spoonful of cream from whatever Fred was eating, ducked into the chaos as the food started to come vaguely back together, and took aim. It settled on the table (Though some of it was stuck to other students).

He couldn't repress a grin as a spoonful of cream splattered down the front of Rose's robes.

Then he ducked under the table as she caught sight and threw a treacle tart at him.

Slytherin colors and tart don't look good together. It does, however, start a good food fight.

"Oh, but now they'll never appreciate it!" Fred moaned. "The sign made of food, with the silverware eatin' it! It says 'The Marauders return!' an' everythin'!"

Scorpius raised the required left eyebrow.

"The Marauders was the name that James' Grandpa Namesake had for his group of troublemakers. We found that out at the end of last year, but never got to do an announcement prank, and I worked so hard on-Hold on a tick, the fight's slowing down." Fred peered around, then his head and arm disappeared as he threw something.

"Anyway... Worked so hard on this one to get it right! Every Hogsmead weekend spent on setup!"

Scorpius shrugged, then caught a very low-aimed slice of cake. Relatively untouched, it had apparently come from the Hufflepuff table.

"Nice catch!"

A syrup-covered Albus slid under the table with them. "It's madness out there!" He shook his head, then licked some of the syrup off his hair. "Delicious madness. Someone threw an entire pie at me, one I'd tried to get a slice the entire evening." He yanked the dish in after himself.

"Great. Take a slice, the rest is defense ammo."

He blinked at his elder brother as he gulped an overly large mouthful. "Why?"

"What, you think we'll let this end while there's still food to be thrown? No, I won't let it rest until they're scraping rice pudding and jelly off the ceiling a hundred years from now!"

"Nobody here can throw that high, James Sirius Potter." Rose sat under the table and took a slice of pie, munching slowly. "And Malfoy, I'm so busting you for that." She noticed the various pieces of food stuck to her clothes, wiping off a mixture of clotted cream and jelly onto her hand.

Scorpius made a "Who, me?" motion, spreading his clean hand over his chest, eyes wide.

"Yes, you!" She threw the handful at him. He caught it using the remains of his cake slice. Then he ate it.

"Go back to fighting Rose. Have a good tale to tell Hugo!"

She disappeared, taking another slice of pie.

"Dere's jelly in your 'air, Sorpius," Albus said through another huge mouthful.

He was almost scared to wipe it away, but did so.

"...Now part of your hair's pink!" Fred burst into laughter, a sound barely audible through the noise.

"_SETTLE DOWN_!"

The voice of Headmistress McGonagall rang over the noise. Splash scurried over to her owner, white-and-gray fur a uniform cream.

"Ew... Splash..."

What followed was a half-hour lecture, a school-wide week of detention and a strange inability to find out who caused the mess.

There was pudding in McGonagall's hair. And both Instructor Hooch and Professor Sinstra were smirking. Soaked in wine.

Scorpius didn't even want to know.

"All students are to change and report to bed! Except for..." She looked at something from her podium. "First years-Gryffindor and Slytherin. You have astronomy. I would have canceled it because of tonight's weather, but it seems you all do not have the behavior skills to be allowed such a thing! Now off!" She clapped her hands and made shooing motions.

Albus, who had somehow found himself seated at Gryffindor holding a squirming ferret, finally lost control of her. She slipped from his hands and ran the length of the table.

Headmistress McGonagall aimed a piercing gaze at the young Potter. Scorpius winced in sympathy.

"Albus Severus Potter! Please explain what that animal is doing in the Great Hall!"

"Erm..." he squirmed uncomfortably next to Scorpius. "I don't know, Headmistress. She follows me, sometimes, or gets into peoples bags. Can't keep her caged."

Her eyes stayed narrowed, but nodded. The students fled as one.

In the hall, they lingered.

"Okay, Scoreboard. You win that one. That prank was way better than mine. Look these guys!" Fred spread his arms.

Students of all houses and years were coated liberally in the entirety of the dessert course. Puddings, cake, tart, three types of juice, syrup, cream, jelly, more cream and even something that looked a bit like caramel cooling on the sleeves of a Hufflepuff's robes.

"Now we have a fourth Marauder, we can officially come up with nicknames! Well, see you, Score. Have fun with Professor Wine-Soaked.

Scorpius grinned and joined the group of first-years heading to the Astronomy Tower. They were in high enough spirits that nobody cared who they talked or walked next to.

"I still can't believe this! Cheesecake all over my robes!" a girl lamented. Then giggled. "Least I got her back. The look on her face!" She turned to Scorpius. "You're relatively clean. How'd you do that?"

Rose Weasley finished running a cleaning charm over her cousins. "Well it wasn't me. He was hiding under the table with Albus, James and Fred."

"So you threw that pie at me! I hate you!" She faked a pout, then grinned. "Part of your hair is pink, did you know that?"

He shrugged, his answer to everything.

"And there's icing on your robes and cream right here." She pointed to a spot on her neck.

He wiped his neck and looked at the whipped cream on the back of his hand, then licked it off.

Rose sighed. "I bet my cousin Lil starts one on her first day. Third year, I suggest you bring a raincoat to First Day feast. And a good shield, shielding charms only block magic."

"I'll use my own little sister. She won't mind, she loves food!"

Rose and the Slytherin girl talked, Scorpius standing between them and completely ignored.

"Hold my ferret?"

Scorpius started. Splash hooked onto his shoulder. Still covered in cream, a trail of dairy was left all up Scorpius's sleeve.

"Oh... Come on, Albus! Can't you do a cleaning charm?"

He shrugged, grinning in embarrassment. "Kind of, but she'd also turn blue and green."

Rose sighed at her cousin, then did the job for her cousin, removing the cream from Scorpius's sleeve in the process.

Splash apparently didn't like this, trying to bite the length of wood flashing in her face.

And so was the trip to the Astronomy Tower.

It was freezing on the open-air deck. The spells preventing the telescope lenses from being ruined only kept the air dry and only a few degrees shy of true freezing. Scorpius carefully leaned on the metal railing and looked out.

There was a great view of the lake (_'Lake, loch, what's the difference?'_), reflecting the stars as it wandered to blend with the black shape of great rolling hills surrounding it. The grounds spread out below as a dark shape cut with the glow of lit rooms, the Forbidden Forest a mass of whispering black.

"Well, children. Glad to see you showed up."

Professor Sinstra finished a drying charm on her clothes, but the smell of the wine she had been doused in lingered.

"I'm sure you would all rather be in your beds after that adventure."

A few nods. Scorpius looked at the gray and silver shapes of clouds, highlighted by moonlight. There were no sounds tonight. The animals seemed to have disappeared; not even Hagrid's large dog baying.

"The weather would have cut short class tonight in any case." The dark-skinned woman grinned, taking in her class. "For tonight's entertainment-I know it was Gryffindor that started it, don't argue. And Slytherin wouldn't let it quit-I think some reward should be offered. Let's go to a lower level. I'll tell stories."

A few short minutes later, robes cleaned and seated on the pillowed floor of the Constellation Room, they listened.

"I think we all know the muggle myth, that wizards carry staves, am I right?"

Nods.

"Well, once upon a time, we did. You see..."

The letter sat in Scorpius's bag, forgotten.

Shaky handwriting. Tear-stained paper.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_No, it's okay that you're in Gryffindor. It really il. When you come home we'll tell Draco and Lucius. It'll be okay. I've delayed the decorating, and I can stop worry about what patterns look best [scratched out] in green/silver. _

_-We- -You shouldn't wo- I won't disown you. -Your-_

_-lov-  
_

_From,_

_Mother_

* * *

Those dashes are supposed to be crossing out. FF doesn't allow strikethroughs.

**IMPORTANT**_  
_

Okay guys. On the last chapter, there is all of one review, with a second one in a PM from another reader. I am disappointed, and frankly nervous. I depend on reviews, okay? They are your guyes way of telling what you do and don't like, so when I see something like 500 hits and only one review, I panic and wonder what I'm doing so wrong that you guys don't find it worthy to review. I could have had a Christmas chapter up in time for actual Christmas but I spent most of my time worrying instead, and only managed this filler.

If you want me to continue, review. If not, feel free to keep ignoring me.


	5. Chapter 4: Christmas: Winter's Girl

Oh my god the review turnout was amazing! I LOVE you people!

And apparently, not only have I turned someone onto reviewing, (Padfoot) but also got someone reading a work-in-progress! (Petrichor) So, in celebration:

Some Lily, since you all probably miss her.

* * *

Lily was impatient as she waited at platform nine-and-three-quarters. Two days ago her mother had said James and Albus would be home within the week. It was within the week. It was Wednesday.

She'd asked every hour at home yesterday if they could go to the station to wait. She'd been refused.

Tired of waiting, she'd finally taken the Floo network to Kings Cross Station and found Platform nine-and-three-quarters. And here she was determined to wait until her brothers came back and explained why they hadn't once sent her things that were others personal belongings.

Very determined, despite the station being dead empty and freezing cold. She sat on a bench, looking at her jean-covered legs, and tucked her hands into a new position in her coat. It was a new coat and she was very proud of it because she managed to sew a blue bow onto it all by herself, and the stitches hardly showed. None of the girls in her class could sew. None cared to, but Lily pretended they were jealous.

Lily went to a muggle primary school. It was a family thing. It meant all the Potter children knew how to blend reasonably well into Muggle society without any of the mishaps of the first tries of most.

Right at this moment, she should have been in school, learning maths and writing and so many boring subjects that teachers taught without magic, and there was nothing fun about any of it. She couldn't tell other girls about her home life or talk about the latest gags in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes or even ask why so many wizards and witches spent so much time staring at her dad out in public. She couldn't set off dung bombs or belch wizard songs in class or talk about Hogwarts and how badly she wanted to go there already!

No, all she could do is listen in and make polite conversation and wait until she turned eleven.

"Oh. Hello Miss Potter."

She looked at an oddly accented wizard directing a few brooms across the platform floor.

"The train isn't coming till Friday. Why are you here so early?"

She kicked her feet a little. "I'm waiting ahead of schedule, so it gets here sooner."

The man laughed, loud and long. "I remember thinking like that when I was younger. Now everything moves too fast. I try to work behind schedule for things, but it rushes to get there early." An almost amazed flick of his wand and a dustpan danced across the floor to the dust piles. "The mind works in strange ways."

Lily nodded. "Yeah. Like when I want my teacher, Miss Ma-Miss M, to finish talking and let us go for recess, it takes forever, but then recess is way too short!"

He smiled. "Yeah." A few scars on his face stretched.

Then he shook his head. "You should go home. Ain't safe to be a kid alone these days." He picked up a third broom and absently began pushing it by hand across the rest of the platform. He limped, like some old injury come back to haunt him.

"But what if you're wrong and the trains come today? That happened James' first year! The trains came Thursday!"

He glanced back. "That was because there was an accident involving idiot muggles digging under the grounds. They made a sinkhole and nearly brought the lake down on the Slyther quarters."

"You mean Slytherin." She looked at the blue on her trainers. She'd tried to color them red to go with the gold paint she'd dropped on them one art class, but it hadn't worked. Water-soluble markers weren't useful in the slightest during the wet season.

"Slyther, Slytherin, it makes little difference to me. Never went to that school."

She looked at the tall janitor. "Why?"

"From America, kid, they have their own schools."

Lily lay down on the bench, looking at the American janitor upside-down. "Where in America?"

"Chicago, mostly. But that was years ago. Got here 'bout the Second Wizarding war. Was only supposed to visit my grandfather and... Well, got stuck here more 'n a few years."

"Why?"

"I had to take a boat here. Brooms aren't any use on cross-Atlantic flights in winter, Floo was closed and I can't Apparate." He waved a hand at his tall frame. "Too much of myself to keep track of."

"How about an airplane?"

He gave her an odd look, then blinked. "Oh. Um... I dunno." He went back to sweeping. Lily, still upside-down with her head hanging off the bench end, watched the clock tick. It would be lunch soon.

"You should still go home."

"'M supposed to be at school."

"Then really go!" A broom handle jabbed her side. "You're not even twelve yet! You not supposed to skip!"

Lily crossed her arms. "I can do what I want and you won't make me."

"I'm sure I can."

"I can set off dungbombs."

"I can get your mother."

Lily paused in mid-breath. "I can meekly lay here and go to school in time for lunch and pretend to have fallen asleep at the school playground again."

"Much better."

The broom stopped poking her side and resumed sweeping.

"Hey mister sweeper?"

"Dresden."

"Hey mister Dresden?"

"What, kid?"

"Why does everyone know who my ma and da are?"

He waved his wand to direct a broom in risk of sweeping off the platform. "You don't know?"

Lily shook her head. "Nope."

"Makes sense. Well..." He sent the brooms back to the cart and sat down on the next bench over with a groan. His long legs made the bench seem short, though she knew it wasn't true. "What do you know of the Second Wizarding War?"

"A bad man wanted to kill off everyone not a pure-blood. A young man from Hogwarts defeated him at the Battle of Hogwarts after years of conflict."

"A two sentence summary. Nice, kid. Well, you see, that bad guy was called Lord Voldemort. He had a group called the Death Eaters, and he was trying to do what you said. First Wizarding War. He was defeated, ya see, by an infant."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "Liar."

He smiled. "Just listen. See, he killed his parents and then tried to kill the infant, but reasons no one really knows, the killing curse bounced. He disappeared, and left a scarred year-old boy behind." He paused. "Damn that sounds poetic. Anyway, that kid's name was Harry Potter."

She gasped. "That's my da!"

"Yup. So fast-forward seventeen years. Voldemort's come back, come to power, killed off a man named Albus Dumbledore and many people only mentioned as history book filler. He comes to Hogwarts to finish the entire job, kills the triple-agent Severus Snape, and then, with an epic battle that would probably make a good movie, kills him. That guy wasn't considered killable, never mind human, so he's famous."

Lily, still upside-down and feeling just a little dizzy, sat up. "Wow. My brother's named after Dumbledore and Snape! Albus Severus Potter!"

Janitor Dresden nodded thoughtfully, then stretched as he stood. "Have fun, Potter." He picked up the broom again, seeming to disregard his wand.

"Hey, who's Sirius?"

"Sirius Black, thought to have been the killer of your grandparents and twelve muggles. Instead, no, it was Pettigrew! Oops, our mistake, we sent him to Azkaban, later he died in the Ministry, we're sorry." Sarcasm dripped from his words.

"Lily Luna Potter!" a prim voice exclaimed. Lily gulped, trying to meld into the bench.

A pale-haired, elderly woman stood in the wrought iron gateway.

"I-Hello Miss M..." she said quietly.

"That's Miss Malfoy! Full names, child! You, are supposed to be in my classroom!"

Lily sat up. "I'm sorry." She looked at her shoes, kicking her feet. "But I wanted to make sure my brothers-" She paused. "How come you're here? You're a witch, Miss M?"

She, in her long skirt, sat next to Lily. "A squib, child," she said softly. "Just a squib."

"Oh."

"Now why are you here? The train never comes in the middle of the week."

Lily smiled, embarrassed. "I thought it would come faster if I came sooner. I really want my brothers to come home."

"I didn't," she muttered. Then she stood. "Well, Miss Potter, if you come with me right now, I won't tell your mother. I dare say she'll ground you for life."

Lily nodded, hopping up. "Yes, Miss M."

"Malfoy."

"Yes Miss Malfoy." She looked around and waved. "Bye, Mister Dresden! Thank you!"

The tall man, facing a corner, raised a hand without turning.

At the gate, he suddenly said, in a sad, sad, voice, "You have unusual eyes, Miss Potter. They're very nice."

They crossed the barrier.

§•§•§•§

Christmas at Malfoy Manor was always a rather somber affair. It was a large building, built at a time when a wealthy family was almost always sure to be hosting guests and have servants, but was now occupied only by six people and a house-elf. There was not even the whispers of past times; a manor had nothing of the magical acoustics of a castle.

So in his home, Christmas would pass in one room, with quiet talking, a few gifts, even a smile on occasion, but otherwise a very depressing atmosphere.

But this year, was sure to be hell. Scorpius, closing his trunk after packing everything, almost winced. It was a very final sound.

Owls had been caged and were waiting for their owners, but Scorpius had sent his home with a note last night instead. The trip to Hogwarts (The parts he remembered) involved the creature attempting a full-scale break-out from its travel cage, and he wasn't anxious for a repeat.

Sean, who had only fallen asleep a few hours ago, suddenly jumped up from his bed. "I didn't pack!"

Then he tripped over the neat stack of books by his bed.

"Oh. It's ready. Thanks Michael, Raf."

Rafael finished packing his things away in the trunk he and his brother shared. "It wasn't us. Scorpius did it when we realized you were still asleep."

Sean's eyes narrowed in distrust. "Why?"

Scorpius shrugged, looking at the floor. He always felt ashamed of himself in Sean's company, like he had to apologize for something.

"Do not blame the child for the deeds of his forebearers," Michael said, looking under his bed and shoving out things. Some looked like they'd been under there for years.

One was a magazine, the cover extremely dusty, but showing off a scantily clad witch as she moved. Scorpius, the most observant, was the first to notice it. He stared.

"What is-That's sickening!" Rafael screeched. The witch was removing what could be called a bra only in the loosest of terms, then putting it back on. On, and off. On, and off.

Sean stared over Scorpius's shoulder, then moved to his bed where he could see better.

Rafael's screech had attracted attention. Three or four other boys entered the room.

"Oh, hey, I remember that issue."

The silence gained a certain measure of awkward. That was due mostly to the look Rafael was giving the entire room.

Yes, even Michael found it (ahem) interesting.

"Well, while we're up here, let's help the measly first-years pack," proclaimed an all-too-excited sounding James.

"What? Wh-"

"There might be more," James whispered.

Scorpius smirked ever so slightly, finally turning his attention to something else.

When he thought no one was looking, Michael slid the magazine into a sweater.

And thus, a new generation of Gryffindor boys discovered porn.

While the trunks were being dragged downstairs, Sean dug around under all the beds. Raf seemed inclined to sullenly ignore them. What was his problem anyway? It was only a magazine.

"Scorpius, there's a motherload under your bed!"

The older boys appeared almost out of nowhere.

"Hey, this ain't your room!"

"Oh come on!" one pleaded. "You know how hard those are to smuggle in?"

And thus, a new generation of Gryffindor boys discovered how depraved their older counterparts were.

There was a scuffle, in which James and Scorpius dragged a fourth-year away from the bed, something glass broke and everyone mentally decided that Rafael was really a girl in disguise.

This, of course, means, that James, lacking the gift known as tact, said this out loud.

"You know, Carpenter," He picked up a few shards of glass. "You're such a girly-girl about these things. Even my little sister wouldn't have cared." He tossed another piece in the rubbish bin. "Then again, she's Lil."

That was the cue to zone James out or find an excuse to leave. Raf, who was looking distinctly red, glanced around before darting after something. "Hey, a living dust bunny!"

Scorpius clapped a hand to his face.

In fact, it was a living dust bunny, hopping down the stairs. The sight instantly distracted everyone from everything important.

"Would you all finish-Hey, a rabbit," a prefect said.

But, eventually, at the promise from Professor Longbottom for a story, the House settled down.

The entire House had somehow managed to pack themselves into the common room and sit.

"Alright, who wants to hear about how Harry Potter drove a flying car into the Whomping Willow?"

The room cheered.

§•§

When Scorpius stepped off the _Express_, the first thing he noticed were the disguised grins people were shooting in one direction. The second was that his father had brought Chione.

This was the source of the smiles, as the almost-two infant had managed to get a hold of a lock of slicked back hair and was yanking on it as she cooed baby-talk that was starting to resemble words. His father, for the most part, was taking it well.

That meant he looked a combination of confusion and amusement.

Scorpius finished dragging his trunk off and walked over.

"Your mother made me bring her," he offered as an excuse.

"_Attention Hogwarts Express passengers,"_ a feminine voice said calmly. _"Due to weather conditions, there is no muggle transportation allowed to and fro from the station. There is also a flight ban on broomsticks from the current location. Floo connections are being set up as we speak, and house-elves will be collecting luggage. Thank you, have a nice holiday."_

A woman standing on a bench stepped down and went back to the ticket collectors stand.

There was a deafening _crack_ as a swarm of elves appeared. Some were family elves, a few wearing clothes, most wearing the official towel of Ministry elves.

Chione, surprised, wailed.

"Oh, no no! It's all right, little mistress! Tis only Zerel!" The family house-elf had made her appearance, crouching by their feet. She looked around wildly. "Zerel shall take little master's luggage home and come right back!" She hopped over to the trunk (Which was full of the things he'd already outgrown) and they disappeared again with a second _crack._ Scorpius winced, then braced himself. Sure enough, Zerel was back in seconds, reaching her arms up.

"Let Zerel take her, Master Draco! Little mistress loves Zerel!"

His father, wincing as he did so, broke Chione's grip on his hair and handed her down. A few hairs went with her.

Chione stared at the oversized blue eyes, then burst into giggles, hugging Zerel tightly.

"Oof! Little mistress will be too big for this soon! Yes, Zerel loves her little mistress. Yes..."

Scorpius looked around, spotting Albus. They exchanged a nod, then he was taken to the fireplaces already set up in a crowd of red hair.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and was immediately hugged by McCoy. She then dashed off to an elderly woman who began to sign (rather fluently) something about how did she ever brush her hair once while she was there? He grinned.

His father was giving him an odd look, but declined comment.

"Come on."

They joined the queue, where Zerel began to quietly comment that the little master would need more robes.

"He's grown. He must be four inches taller, and the little master's only been gone a few months! Zerel shudders to think of how tall he might be by Easter!"

Scorpius rolled his eyes in response. He hadn't grown four inches! Maybe three and a half.

Their turn came up, and they ducked into the fire. Scorpius closed his eyes and waited until the feeling of movement stopped. He scrambled out into the foyer and dusted his robes clean.

Zerel followed and put Chione down. She immediately began dabbing in the ashes around her and rubbing them into everything.

"Oh, little mistress! Not the rug!" She picked her up and vanished with a crack.

His father walked off to his study, and Scorpius sat in the bay window and waited, hand in his pocket. A crystal-glass snake wove between his fingers.

§•§

"No! No! NO!"

He could hear Zerel's shout, faintly. Scorpius sighed. It begins.

With a sharper crack than usual, she appeared in the middle of the room, facing him with large blue eyes full of pain.

"Why?"

In her hands, she held a robe decorated in red and gold.

"Why, little master?"

Cue curious family, entering the room within a minute, yet at a walk. Grandfather was last, leaning heavily on a cane while Grandmother supported his other side.

Zerel looked at where one of her long fingers touched a gold lining and wiped it quickly on her baby-blanket toga.

Scorpius stood, leaning against the wall. He was still in his coat and trainers, and they were in formal robes. Excluded again.

Something bounded into the room with a loud bark. A young german shepherd, not even half-grown, a rope toy dangling from her mouth.

Not sensing the tension, she bounded over, happy to see a new face. She reared up, planting oversized paws on his chest. The dogtag on her collar read Athena.

Oh, now he got it. Couldn't send it because it was a dog.

"Why, little master?" Zerel was crying, still holding out the robe. "Why must he shame his family like this? Why is he a Gry-Gry-" She couldn't even get the word out. "Why isn't he a proper Slytherin?"

He shrugged, still looking at the dog at his feet.

His grandfather's eyes turned to granite, skimmed over him like he wasn't there. He turned and limped out. Grandmother followed.

His father's eyes flicked between Zerel and him, Zerel and him. He slumped ever so slightly as he turned away.

Only his mother was left. Astoria closed her eyes, lips a thin line, but she followed her husband out. Zerel shuffled next to her, the very picture of rejection.

Only Chione was left, staring at the rug. Scorpius slid to the ground, letting out a sigh as Chione balanced and took a few steps to her brother, eyes sad. She'd been left alone.

Her tiny fingers closed on the edge of his sleeve as their grandfather swept in and picked up his granddaughter.

"Shouldn't leave an infant like you alone."

If there was ever a clearer message.

Athena padded away and came back with a leash as Scorpius pulled his hand out of the coat pocket. The snake statue had come completely away from its base, winding its way along his hand. In the light, it raised a clear head and then slithered into his sleeve, up his arm and up onto his shoulder, winding gently around his neck. The tail settled over a fading bruise, cool crystal providing relief.

He clipped the leash onto Athena's collar and took her out for a walk.

§•§

His grandfather made his point much more than he strictly needed to over the next few days, seeming to have Chione with him everywhere and once telling Zerel to be more careful with the Malfoy family's only heir.

Scorpius spent much time with Athena on walks or in his room with his owl.

The snake statue hadn't once reattached to the base, and now seemed under the opinion it was alive, as it shed crystal skin and became as long as his forearm.

Scorpius had a copy of it made in its original size and waited for his chance.

It came as he was leaning on the stair balcony, thinking that maybe Athena shouldn't be in the same room as a complete collection of old Slytherin dining ware, when he heard his grandfather, or, more specifically, Chione's laughing at his grandfather. He pulled the copy out of his pocket and tossed it up and down in his hand, smirking slightly as the elderly turned the corner.

"Yes, and-"

His eyes lit on the statue, hissing slightly, as Scorpius narrowed his eyes with the patented smirk, held it over the edge, and dropped it.

It shattered two stories down on the ground floor with a satisfying sound. He met his grandfather's eyes.

Pain was there, just pain. A prized possession of his family, passed down so carefully to prevent such a thing as just happened, gone, just like that. Scorpius descended the stairs with Athena, who held her head high and walked primly like a showdog, just like he was teaching her. At the bottom, he picked up a shard of crystal-glass, twirling it slightly in his fingertips. Then he dropped that too, like it wasn't worth his interest.

"Why?" came Lucius's shaky voice.

He glanced back at him.

There was no need of an answer. It was clear from the crystal on the ground.

Scorpius walked through the splatter zone, grabbed Athena's leash, and they went for a run.

§•§

Scorpius, as he had discovered this last week, loved running. Not running to somewhere, or away; just running. He liked hearing the rhythm of his feet pounding the ground, he liked the rush of wind, he liked counting his breathing and trying to keep moving with as few breaths as possible, he liked the idea that he was actually doing something, instead of standing around, waiting for a storm to break.

Athena, being a large dog, loved running herself. It didn't seem to matter that every time they did this they ran the same path and came back to an oversized silent house of tense people. She was outside, she could stretch her legs, she could bark and someone was with her. She was happy.

Scorpius stretched his stride a little farther to match hers, and maybe he'd be sore tomorrow, but he was sore every day, so why worry?

§•§

When he came back, it felt like the manor was in mourning. The air was heavy, he could now taste an electric scent in the air as it sliced into his lungs. He stretched, sweaty. He'd been out longer than he meant to be, a good four hours at least.

Obviously, he hadn't spent the entire time running. An hour of that time was spent lying on the grass in a park as Athena burned off energy on bird-chasing. Then it was back up and going.

He'd found a new route back, one with hills and houses, muggle ones. Decorated for Christmas, which was today, and lit bright with lights on strings and trees decorated inside, and tasteless, tacky decorations in the yards that yet looked nice, but would have looked better if the weather had done its usual snowfall. Queen Mab did not appear to be cooperating this year.

He walked up the long drive, aching but calm. Nothing like a good run.

The doors swung open, like they usually did, which surprised him. Zerel was still allowing him in?

But he didn't question it, because he was cold and Athena was shaking with exhaustion. She was still a puppy, really.

He jokingly bowed as he unclipped her leash and she immediately jogged off to the distant kitchens.

Lucius was waiting. The doors slammed shut, Scorpius pausing in the act of peeling his jacket off his skin.

He was sitting in a chair, eyes closed as he clasped both hands on the handle of his cane. A little bag of shards sat closed on the chair arm. Even if spelled back together, the magic that made it move would be gone. Suddenly glad he hadn't dropped the real thing, Scorpius waited. One always waited for Lucius to act first.

"I get it. And I'm sorry."

Then he limped away.

§•§

Dinner that night was dead quiet. Nothing was said, not even about business. Athena ate silently, rather than wolf anything down, and Chione was already asleep. Scorpius swept his eyes over the huge room, with its long table set only at one small end, paintings with bad attitudes glaring down importantly, the dark-painted walls, the cabinets of things that never got looked at. It was saddening.

Lucius handed him a napkin as he splashed something on himself. "Manners, child."

And just like that, he existed again. Dinner was silent, but the tension loosened slightly.

Zerel looked in at him and sniffed though, like she was going to cry any minute. The first chance he got, Scorpius stood and left the sullen group, following the long hallways and staircases up to his room.

He'd been home a week and he suddenly realized that his room was a mess. Books and papers and writing utensils were everywhere, there was clothes on the floor for his desperate hunts for things that fit, his owl (Now deemed Name Les) had managed to get feathers all the way from her cage to the door, and Shatter was nowhere to be seen, until it slithered out from under his bed with an almost confused expression. Maybe it'd tried to eat something and then realized it didn't have a stomach.

Shatter curled around his ankle, head resting on his shoe. Ignoring it since it weighed practically nothing, he began gathering things back into a form of order.

_Crack._

"Let Zerel get that, little master! She hasn't forgiven herself for not doing her duty to her family!"

She held her eyes wide, and Scorpius stepped back from the paper, watching her set to work. It calmed her, and as she set the last stack of parchment on the desk, she gave a smile.

"Zerel thanks the little master for letting Zerel do her proper work! She's sorry for not liking the little master's Hogwarts House."

He shuffled his feet in response.

"But of course! Zerel will go make Christmas-theme biscuits and decorate them red and gold!

One house-elf, gone with the wind.

Rolling his eyes at the over-exuberant creature (But biscuits!, part of him complained), he sat on his bed. Shatter, on an ever-present search for warmth, slithered up his leg and curled up on his bed next to him.

This, apparently, wasn't good enough. Back to the neck...

Snakes. Yeesh.

§•§

It snowed that night. Heavily. Starting about ten-fifteen, snowflakes poured from the sky. Scorpius knew because he sat up and watched it.

They danced to the ground in whirlwind patterns, each unique and in a spotlight all their own until they settled to the ground among their fellows.

"No! No, little master should be asleep! Little master is not old enough to stay up till three!"

It was three in morning? There was no way! He wasn't tired at all! Obviously, someone messed with all the clocks in the house, because he wasn't tired and it was three A.M.

He looked at Zerel, who grabbed his wrist and practically dragged him from the window.

"Zerel will have to tell Master Draco and Elder-Master Lucius. This bad behavior, and not tis not good to miss sleep as his young age!"

Did all house-elves talk like the people they mention aren't there?

Zerel tucked him in like he was six (Though she probably thought he was) and wandered out of the room.

All right, fine, maybe he was tired.

Athena woke him up later that day when she was tired of waiting for her morning run.

It was eight in the morning. Usually, he would have been up by now anyway, but usually he had more than five hours of sleep. But she had her leash as she begged and everything, so he got up anyway.

Ow, sore muscles, ow.

He managed to get dressed and trudged down the many stairs. Would it kill his family to install an elevator?

Athena seemed immune to his plight, bounding up and down the stairs like a squirrel. When he finally arrived at the doors, he dragged one open and looked blearily outside.

There was three feet of snow on the ground. Scorpius was no longer tired.

He pulled on his heavy coat and followed the dog breaking a path through the smooth white expanse.

It was pretty funny, really. She wasn't even two and a half at the shoulder, leaving her trying to jump onto what must have looked like floor and sinking through. Rinse and repeat. Scorpius followed, filling in the places she missed. In ten minutes flat, it looked like oversized termites had come through and tunneled the snow on the drive, leaving a cross-section of lines and gaps going nowhere and yet all over the place.

Athena decided, about that point, that the ten-foot snow drift absolutely needed a tunnel, and Scorpius helped.

_Crack._

"See, little mistress? Tis snow!"

A moment of silence, then a high-pitched laugh. Changes in weather were hilarious to infants.

Scorpius pulled himself out of the dent they'd created, just spotting the tips of Zerel's leathery ears. Flattening himself against the ground, he slid across the icy walkway, not sure what he was doing, but bored.

The snow walls looked like a canyon from this angle, so somewhere in his head came that this was a mission to brave the treacherous White Canyon to rescue the infant Winter from the deathly grip of old Summer, who wanted to rule forever.

Down the icy river, still frozen. Quiet, quiet, or Summer would catch them! Already, the river was defrosting as she gained power, at any moment the ice could shatter and send him straight into the water where he'd drown a lonely death.

Athena sniffled at the ice, the greatest scent hound of the ages, the prized hunting dog of Lady Autumn herself stolen for this. When she refused to give help to save face, he borrowed it. Maybe later he'd ask, too!

"And it melts away..."

He could already hear old Queen Summer, talking of how she would destroy Winter's lands. He reached for ammo-

"Scorpius? What are you doing?"

Dammit.

He peeked over his shoulder. His father down at him disapprovingly, arms crossed. From this angle, it was hard not to notice that his hair was thinning.

Um...Right! This was an evil dragon, working for Summer! He'd disguised himself as a person to lead Scorpius the wrong way and then slaughter him in a dead-end where his bones would never be found.

He threw a snowball-er, he sent a powerful spell of winter magic right into its face. The dragon tried to cover its face with its arms but the clashing of season powers blinded it long enough to slip past.

And there was Summer, hunched over by time, skin leathery and wrinkled by ages of sun. Her blue eyes were much too big for her skull, ears pointed like her elven children and extended from her head.

"And then it will rain!"

What? Rain in the lands of winter? Everything would die!

Winter hadn't realized her danger, giggling to herself while around her the ice melted and spiderweb cracks spread fingers nearly out to where he, the guard stupid enough to lose her in the first place, waited. He counted his breaths and sent another jet of magic. Summer yelled as he slid through, grabbing the infant as he went. He barely managed to avoid a canyon wall. If they collided it would slide down on them in an instant.

Winter giggled and shrieked. He just had make it back to the mountain!

"Scorpius! Really! Come inside!"

"The little master will be in much trouble for that snowball, he will!"

He sat up from where he'd crashed into a snowbank and looked down at Chione. She smiled wide, but then held up her tiny fists, shaking. The sign for winter.

He pulled his coat around her, though he wasn't much warmer. Snow began to fall, softly, in flurries. Chione reached out, clapped her hands around one, but when she looked, it had melted. She raised her hands in silent question.

Okay, maybe that's why James talked about Lil so much. He picked her up and followed his father inside. Winter's girl caught snowflakes over his shoulder.

§•§

He'd been staring at the study door for five minutes, trying to find the courage to just open it already, but couldn't. The heavy wooden door, carved with sinuous designs blurred by time, seemed to look down on his with disdain. He gulped, rubbed a few fingers over the crystal snake head resting on his palm and reached for the knob yet again.

It seemed so far away, yet again. This time, he closed his eyes as he reached out and his hand closed on the carved shape. He twisted and pulled.

The room within could fit half of his common room, high ceiling rising to shadows and bookshelves rising to loom over the desk. Those books just gloated of laws and taxes and the sorts of unpleasant issues that made one want to leave before the lawyer stepped out of its coffin.

There was no lawyer here, however. There was only Lucius in profile, quill scratching on parchment.

That, however, was twice as terrifying. This was a man who'd been on house-arrest for seventeen years after getting released from Azkaban. And here he was, sane as you please, co-running the family business with his son.

Maybe if he was lucky, he would suddenly be deaf today and Scorpius could sneak off instead of what he was about to do.

"Come in," he said, eyes still on the parchment. "And shut the door. The manor is generally colder than I'd like during winter." He reached his left hand over to touch the dying lamp on his desk and it flared to blue life. Scorpius slipped in and pushed the door shut, but then he felt frozen again.

Several minutes passed. He started on a new piece of paper.

"I don't bite, Scorpius."

He approached slowly, looking at everything but the elderly man. He stood next to him and held out his hand, palm up. Shatter kept her head still, tongue flickering only slightly.

Several more minutes passed, his arm starting to ache before he finally turned to look.

Something flickered across Lucius's face, but all he did was hold out his own hand and Shatter slithered onto it, wrapping around his wrist. They inspected each other a moment, then it began to slowly wind up his arm and neck, as if searching for something. In the end, it found its way down the back of the chair and wound around the limping leg.

"Do you know what this is, Scorpius?" he asked, watching the statue as it closed eyelids that seemed perfectly useless. He shook his head.

"No one really does. They're living creatures, not statues. No one knows what they eat, or if they breed. Incredibly rare and seem to live forever, and few stay in a family line for long, making them nigh impossible to study. If they don't leave, they break." Scorpius winced. "Most of the time, they're thought to just be statues, since they can go through long periods of dormancy. You won't learn about these in Care of Magical Creatures." He held a hand down near his leg, and Shatter stretched across the distance with ease. "This one was my best friend. It's why I know so much." He gently held Shatter's head between thumb and forefinger. "He's remarkably intelligent, and learns quickly. He helped me cheat on a test once, but never let me do it again. He's a great judge of character as well..." He looked sad as he said that, like he was regretting something. "Take care of him." And he held his hand out. Shatter slipped from his grip with the gentle ringing sound of crystal rubbing together, sliding up his arm to wind around his neck again, head rest on his scalp. Scorpius turned to go.

"The surilin are also powerful healers."

As he closed the door, he glanced back at Lucius, who was walking around his office. For the first time in his life, Scorpius saw him without a cane, head high and proud.

* * *

Please continue reviewing and enjoy your late Christmas chapter. Sara out.


	6. Chapter 5: Run In The Rain: Y1 End

I'm ALIVE! Gah, this chapter gave me writer's block '-_-

I wonder why people... Last chapter people called my Miss Malfoy Mrs... Guys, she's **un**married! Malfoy by birth! Think of the implications!

Oh, I forgot to mention, these last few chapters! I have two shout-outs to a different book (series) involving wizards placed in them. It is either an object or a person, in chapters three (Of Pudding) and four (Christmas). If you can find it (them), you win... Well, I'll think of something XD If you find both, you two of the thing.

* * *

Scorpius was back on the platform, waiting for a moment to board the train. His father had said his goodbyes and had already left, since there was something he needed to attend to concerning work, maybe.

Maybe he was just ashamed to be seen with a son in scarlet-and-gold lined robes.

Al, who seemed to have been on lookout, came right up to him, despite the crowd.

"Hey Scorpius!" Albus seemed unable to stand still. "How was your Christmas?"

He shrugged.

"No good, huh? Didn't take to your House?"

He shook a hand in midair.

"Kinda? Well that's good! I thought they would disown you!" He turned and waved wildly, missing Scorpius's wince. "Hey dad!"

Harry Potter squeezed through the crowd, too energetic to completely notice the hero in their midst.

"Yes?" He adjusted his glasses as they tried to fall off. "Oh. Hello."

"This is Score, and I still don't see why Uncle Ron would hate him."

"Because Ron is a prideful git," Harry muttered. "I have no idea," he said, loud enough for Al to hear.

Al leaned close. "Don't tell anyone, but he started the food fight. He'll be in detention for years if McGonagall finds out!"

Scorpius winced again.

"Did he... Well, Malfoy, your secret's safe with me. You both should get on the train, it's nearly eleven." He leaned close. "And some of the adults look ready to kill around here." His eyes flicked to one with a dark expression, hand on Sean's shoulder.

Scorpius nodded, nearly dashing the short distance to a train compartment. He and Albus climbed on and looked down the aisle.

"...Where do you want to sit?"

He shrugged.

"Well I don't know either." He tapped on a door. It opened. "Seen my brother, James?"

"That way," the sixth-year pointed. The green on her robes flashed. "By the way, there's an insect following you."

Albus narrowed his eyes. "Re-eally?" He turned to Scorpius. "Do you have a flyswatter? She's..." He waved at his elder Housemate.

Ouch.

She returned an angry look and the door slammed shut.

"I'll pay for that later, but it's so worth it to pull one over their heads. You know?" Albus grinned. "Granted, not my best, but I've been around my family for two weeks."

They wandered down the length of the train, where James finally flagged them down, opening a door to berate them.

"Geez, did you guys get lost? I told you I'd be here, Albus!" He looked at Scorpius. "Escaping Lil. You don't want to know what I did to her hair."

Then he sat down like he hadn't just mentioned doing something potentially horrible to a family member.

Someone tapped on the window.

"James, your grandmother is writing a howler as we speak. Don't pull a stunt like that again."

Ginny Potter walked away, holding the hand of a loudly crying girl with her hair covered by a purple scarf.

"... You idiot!" Albus reached over and slapped him upside the head. Scorpius glanced back at the window and copied him.

"What'd he do?" Rose asked, opening the door. "Oh yeah, James, girl in one of the cabins wants me to give you this." She tossed him an envelope as the train whistle blew.

"He did something to Lil's hair, now she's upset."

Third slap, down for the count, and for good measure he suddenly sprouted horns.

"Antlers. You should have done antlers," Albus commented.

Rose snorted, binding wild red hair back up in a ponytail. "No way. Moose are cool. Oh, and Malfoy?" She tapped her wand on his nose. "Don't think I've forgotten."

She exited with a grin.

"Uh... Scorpius... You..." Albus looked at the ground. "Umm... You have ears. Like... Dog ears..."

He looked in his reflection in the window. In place of his regular ears were pointed, white-furred dog ears, or maybe fox.

Scorpius blinked, twisting them back to listen. He could hear conversations in the next cabin over!

Not feeling the slightest bit guilty, he tilted his head to tune the conversation.

"_...Like it? Please say James liked it! I worked so hard on that all holiday!"_

"_I wouldn't know. Though I have to admit, he does seem a little... Devilish today."_

"_I want to go see what-"_

"_No, you should stay here, Myra."_

Was it just him or was she saying her name a little bit louder on purpose?

"Whatcha listening to?"

James, now sitting up, groaned. "Ow... Have I ever mentioned... Rose has a strong right?"

"To hit you? No. Enlighten us, please."

He put his head on his knees. "Ow. Albus... No smart alecking.. Okay? Ow, it feels like someone redesigned my skull-Scorpius... What did she do to you?" James gave him a bleary look, Scorpius glanced at Albus, who stood and left. Scorpius twitched his ears.

"_-Wondering if I could bo-Ow! Dammit!"_

"_Language, little Potter!"_

Albus came back holding his arm. "Need to borrow you. Flatten the ears."

He did as commanded, leaning around the doorway of the cabin over.

"I said-Aw! He's so CUTE!" A fourth-year girl jumped up, squealing. He winced.

"Well, if you let me borrow a mirror, perhaps some of those chocolate frogs, and..." He looked around. "Maybe that magazine, you have him for the train ride."

Scorpius blinked. What?

The response was a series of squeals that maybe he could have understood, with a guide to Morse code and a German-to-French dictionary that had been run through a student of Latin for English printing. Also, a dolphin.

But, as he had none of those items, all he do was stand there in shock as the things were passed over. He gave Al his best _traitor_ glare, which made him wince, but he took his things next door.

And he was left in a cabin of two fourth-year girls, a second-year, and Rose.

He was going to die. He was going to die and it was going to be a horribly embarrassing death, and he wouldn't even get a good gravestone out of this, because the person carving it would just HAVE to carve some joke.

"Pink," one mused. "Pink and ribbons."

He uttered a mute squeak of distress.

§•§

By the time they were done with the equivalent of torture for twelve-year-olds, he had ribbons covering his limbs and ears, he was coated in lace, and Rose had only just stopped them from something that looked suspiciously like make-up and a collar. He did his best to hide under the seats while they talked, occasionally ruffling his hair, or adjusting the bow tied there, which was quite often as he tried to untie it. Shatter, in his pocket, had escaped attention by being as still as possible. Since this had been in cabinets that had not one, but two six-years-olds pass by and try to invade them over the course of the last several decades, that meant frozen.

He huddled a little farther against the wood wall, wishing that for some unknown reason, Athena would turn out to be on the _Express._ She would love this sort of attention, if she wasn't always so distracted by her own tail, and if anything, it would give him a chance to run away. After all, it was only said Gryffindors had to be brave, not stupid. As far as he was concerned, he was brave enough just for living through this.

"Anything from the cart, dearies?"

He cringed. Oh, what now? Embarrassed at the thought of anyone finding him like this, Scorpius stared through the small gap he'd slid through at the bottom of the lunch cart. The door shut as the girls finished their purchases.

"You coming out?" the second-year asked, staring back. He narrowed his eyes and imagined her freezing into an ice statue. She blinked. "He's glaring at me!"

Rose snorted. "No duh! You put a bow in his hair!"

"That's not it! He would have complained! I bet he's glaring because he's a Malfoy."

That... Didn't make sense.

"Meaning?"

Her tongue caught, she stuttered something, and there was the distinct sound of a heavy item being thrown. "Why are you defending him?"

What followed was an argument he only caught half of, "He looks cute!" "He hasn't complained!" "He's a mute!" "Humiliation he deserves!" and wished he hadn't. But, because of it, he nabbed a chocolate frog and an entire bag of Bertie Botts. Scorpius never really got to eat much candy. On occasion he might get one thing, or one piece, or maybe a handful of something, but that was the limit of his endeavors. Despite this, he knew to be extremely wary of the Every Flavors and to eat them in a bright room. He slid them into his pocket.

"Hey, my jelly beans are missing!"

"Can't imagine why, Myra..."

The floor shuddered as they went up a hill. "I bet Malfoy took them!"

"Then I really can't imagine why. They're just candy, and we're almost there. Here, have some of mine. Just don-"

Scorpius was yanked forcefully out from under the bench. "Alright! I know you have em!"

Glad that he hadn't touched the frog yet and hiding it in his pocket, he stared up at her.

"That's a guilty look! I know it!" She slapped him, he winced and let out a swift, twisted whine. His throat ached, but verbal pain responses are instinct. She slapped again, and for good measure pulled her arm back to punch him.

"Hey."

Myra froze. "James! James, he stole from me! I mean, I know he ha-"

James had a grip on her arm. "I don't care if you're a girl," he said quietly. "I will break your arm in three places if you abuse him like that."

Her eyes widened as he dropped a burned piece of paper before her. He could see, how she thought she was in the right and couldn't quite understand...All the same, he hid behind James, leaving the cabin behind.

Next door, James muttered something, and his hearing was suddenly half as powerful, or less. People had such weak ears, he realized, as the two brothers helped him get rid of the lace and ribbons.

"We'll burn this later," James promised, shoving it into his bag. "Just the three of us."

"Room for a fourth?" Rose asked sheepishly from the doorway. She closed the door. "I'm really sorry, Malfoy. I didn't mean..." She examined the carpet. "I didn't think you'd get dragged into our cabin or anythin'... Oh, and your ears are slightly pointed, you look like an elf. Hold still."

Scorpius scrabbled away anyway.

"Oh come on! The elf ears look cool!"

"James, let me have my guilt." She lunged forward and flattened him. A knee digging into his chest, she waved her wand quickly.

"Now, now, children. You're not old enough for that!"

They managed to give James a glare at the same time. He wilted slightly. "Or-or-whatever."

Rose let him up and they sat with Al, three first-years against the third. James began to babble about someone called Peeves not being seen, and then Rose mentioned a "Myrtle" and the flooding girls bathroom, and somewhere about the word fire Albus and Scorpius got lost, requiring Al to ask for directions.

"Oh, well Peeves is our poltergeist. He hasn't been seen once yet this year, and Rose was talking about how Moaning Myrtle on the second floor bathroom-the one that's constantly flooded now-and she thinks Peeves is teasing her while planning something. We're considering fire."

Scorpius ate his chocolate frog.

"You don't really care, do you?"

He nodded. James grinned. "Didn't think you would. Say, when we get there, what say we show Rose the Saturday stairs? Induction ritual, one might call it."

And then there was five.

§•§

No one was able to figure out why Rose hung out with him. Yes, they could get James and Fred and even Al, the three all being relatives, but Scorpius?

Till the end of the year, the gossip was all about why she would do such a thing, except for the time when Loriana Wood crashed during a Quidditch game and it turned out she got jinxed. Then it was back to the talk about whether she had a crush or if she was insane or cursed, or something of the like.

Scorpius stopped noticing after a few weeks, not because he didn't care, but because something else caught his mind.

Birch hadn't even tried to attack him once. Not in the "I've been caught" way, but the "I'm planning something" way. Sure, other students took the time to curse and jinx and all that (Shatter really could heal. Those bruises disappeared in a matter of hours), but never once did the "history lessons" resume.

He was getting jumpy, so much, in fact-

"Are you scared of your own shadow or something?"

That Sean pointed it out. Scorpius finished considering a run around the outside of Hogwarts Castle, despite the fact it was raining, and glanced at him. Maybe Birch's plan was to make him so terrified he just died of fright, which he sometimes felt he was balancing on, when nightmares of being drowned or dropped off the Astronomy Tower snuck over him.

Okay, he was going for a run. He shrugged, leaving the room and slipping through the common room, where at least half the House had congregated this April day. Past the Fat Lady, down the stairs, jump the section missing since it happened to be two o'clock on a weekend, one moving stair and he quietly slipped through the door of the castle onto the grounds.

The rain was warm, a fine mist hovering an inch above the ground. Scorpius stretched, shedding the robes and leaving them next to the doors where they'd be dry. Then he began to run. The ground pounded away, hills and rocks and slippery grass, because Hogwarts grounds had it all except forest and sand. He bounded along the trail past Hagrid's hut, waving, then he followed through flight training grounds and onward through the courtyard. He was wearing jeans with grass stains and trainers with barely enough tread to keep him standing and a t-shirt a size too large plastered to his skin and he was running.

And it was the best thing ever. He didn't even care when he passed the entrance, he just decided to go round again, stretching his stride and forsaking Hagrid's trail for the hill it ran beside, steep as it was, because why not? No one could tell him not to. He passed some students staring through library windows and under overhangs and kept going till he finished the second loop, collapsing against the wall with a grin. Panting, he leaned his head back against the stone, feeling rain stream off his hair and down his back.

Clear-headed, he picked up his robes and head back in, the uniform slung over one shoulder so he wouldn't completely soak it. The Fat Lady gave him a look, but smiled. "Guess the weather must be lovely! You've been gone an hour!"

He grinned, signing the password and ducking into the common room. They were as he left them, but a few students at the window glanced at him. James and Rose, planning with Fred, waved. He waved back and headed up to his dorm, collapsing onto his bed and pulling a purple ribbon from under his pillow. Today felt great and he wasn't going to ruin it for the world.

So he fell asleep, still smiling.

§•§

Last day. And the Christmas Holiday rush returned, with Sean once again waking up late with his things already waiting. He rolled his eyes, shoving them into his trunk. They wouldn't quite fit, so Scorpius jumped up onto his trunk while he struggled and fought the straps and lock into place. Michael jumped up too, a resounding boom following the noise. Sean forced the trunk into submission and the three dormmates high-fived and practically threw it down the stairs.

"HEY!"

They quickly shut the door to escape punishment. Or something. It wasn't like girls could come up here, could they?

Name Les hooted from the window, Shatter tucked between several layers of packed clothes, Scorpius shut his trunk and threw a treat to his owl. She snatched it up from the air.

Now came the difficult part. Caging her. Picking up the leather gloves Lucius had sent him just for this, he approached slowly, picking her up by the legs, and nearly convinced her-

She caught on and if it wasn't for the gloves, his hands would have been a mess. Michael had gone with Sean because of the trunk, so only Raf was left. Poor guy.

"I'll help!"

Between the two of them they got the ferocious owl caged in. She glared at them. Scorpius nodded his thanks.

"No-Ow. No problem. Always wanted to try owl wrestling." Rafael wiped at a scratch on his palm. He sat down. "Hey Scorpius?"

He tilted his head, showing he was listening as looked out the window.

"Do you ever think God might have made a mistake with me?"

He gave him a look, reaching for his notebook. _I don't generally believe in God._

Rafael laughed nervously, running his fingers through his hair. "Oh, right, yeah. But I meant... Well, I guess I'd have to explain..." He wrapped his hand up. "I've always felt different from my brother, I guess... I wore dresses when I was six." He blushed as he said this. "And then my dad and mom told me off every time. Since then I've always thought there was something wrong with me, since there's that thing about how God doesn't make mistakes but I keep thinking that maybe I'm that first mistake..."

_People make mistakes, Raf. Don't bring metaphorical into it._

"And then James said I was a girl and I've been... Worried the rest of the year."

Rafael had been quieter the entire year, but he'd always thought that maybe he'd just lost trust in Michael. (He knew that magazine was still in that sweater...)

But seriously? He was worried that he might have been a guy by mistake?

Raf stared at the ceiling now. "I'm not even sure why I'm saying this, but I know you won't judge. I don't get along with Sean, and I bet Michael would, and... I'm scared mom and dad might toss me out for even thinking I should have been a girl. Because that's not possible. Right?"

Scorpius shrugged. _We're twelve, how would we know?_

Rafael blinked. "Because I know! I just know it is!

Scorpius scrabbled through his meager religious knowledge, trying to comfort his classmate.

_Well... _He tapped his pencil on the paper, trying to think of how to phrase what was in his mind. _I heard that God just made the souls. _He heard that SOMEWHERE, anyway. It was probably for a completely different religion, but hey... _Maybe you just got the wrong body. _

Raf read that, tilted his head, and smiled ever so slightly. "Maybe. Doesn't explain-"

_You're a muggleborn. You've got more than enough sources. That Interweb thing?_

"Internet, Score." Raf hugged him. "Thanks. I'll probably regret all this and think it was stupid, but thanks."

Scorpius tore out the sheet of paper, handing it over.

Then he lugged his trunk and owl downstairs, the odd conversation already dissipating in his mind. Religion was something that mattered little to him, and so any conversation involving it tended to do the same.

Neville finished a story while they waited, and this one was about the philosopher's stone.

By the time they made it down to the station, his mind was full of weaving images and storyteller's words as he sat with James and Albus and Rose, all of which were talking about what they were going to do this summer.

"Well, I have to visit my grandparents Grangers, and then Mom said we might go to the forest of Dean!" Rose said, eyes alight.

James sighed. "Can we come with you? We're stuck with Da and mum, and we'll be forced to visit Uncle Dudley. I swear, if Great-aunt Petunia..." He shook his head, apparently disgusted.

"Never mind that! Peony and Tomas keep ganging up on Lil! I don't care about no magic laws, I'm sending that brat flying if he yanks her hair again!" Albus snapped.

"You'll have to beat her to it. Fire-girl, she is."

"Fire is right," James muttered.

Scorpius tuned them out, but smiled.

At the station, he got off the train, dragging his trunk and doing his best to grip his cage where Name Les wouldn't snap his fingers off.

His father gave him a small smile, floating the trunk and cage over to a standing trolley and holding out a hand to his son.

* * *

Yes, guys, the story is growing a bit of a beard. Raf decided that we can have gender identity issues and thinks that reviewers will be mature about it. And I sincerely hoped I insulted no one's religion. It was not my intention, and if I did so I apologize.

Petrichior review replay!: I'm sorry it's confusing. Just to tell you, plotline's linear, so don't panic, I may have just finished writing a large story poem after some sections of that, so it's a little bit of a splatter all over the doc...

And yes, I found that line funny too :P

No, you weren't reading too much into it. If anything, you read the right amount. ;)

I-I-*stammers* The snake is really... That good? I-I-WOW! *faints*

And yes, I love Lucius too ;P Get an account so we can fight over him XD(You might have to get a new screenname though. Four or five other people have yours. I would know, I searched.)

**Review, my friends!**


	7. Chapter 6: Candle: Year two

I figure I've lost some part of my gathering fanbase since last chapter. Eh. Whatever.

And now we breeze through year two, so we can get right to Lily next chapter!

This chapter's a little sadder than the rest, somehow...

* * *

The summer passed in a gentle blur. Athena had grown up, but confined to small walks with Narcissa or his mother, once apparently his father. Now Scorpius was back, he took her running twice a day, helping her get the energy out. Helping him get his energy out. He followed routes through neighborhoods and parks and woods and found new places, little hiding spots and places where you could see a sight for miles, and Athena was right there with him. Sometimes, so was Shatter, wrapped gently around his neck. They found every place they could run to around them, and his summer was full of one person adventures, like they had always been, but this time he had a dog to play a second part. So Athena, Lady Autumn's hunting dog, returned.

And if he wasn't out running, he was with Chione, who was fascinated with sign language, as much as she was with speech itself. She kept asking Scorpius, "Where snow? Where snow?"

He would respond, signing, _With winter._

"Wanna be wif winter, Scorpion!" And she would stretch her arms up to him.

Winter's girl became his nickname for her. She was just so much in love with that season.

So his day settled fast into a regular schedule. Wake at six, get Athena, go over the tricks she was taught at Lucius's limp-again side, run, come back, change clothes, Winter's girl, bedroom, and wait for the evening run. Somewhere in there, there was few differences, but it stayed generally the same. He got no messages, sent no messages, waiting only for his Hogwarts list.

"Scorpius," his father entered his room, late July. "You left your wand on the entrance hall table again." His father held out the willow wand. "You should stop doing that."

He nodded to the book he was reading. The muggle studies teacher kept it on her bookshelves, saying they borrow them over the summer as long as they were returned in good condition, and so far it was amazing. So much adventure! He couldn't imagine even doing half those things, even if he could use magic.

"Scorpius."

He looked up at his father, waiting patiently. No conversations with him ever lasted long.

"Do you ever use this?"

He looked down at the elegantly carved wood, then his father, and shook his head.

"No, of course not. Well." He sat down. "Want to learn something interesting? Just... Don't show off."

Scorpius sat up, not sure what he was supposed to learn.

"It's called nonverbal magic. I only learned it in my sixth year." His eyes narrowed at some distant memory. "Don't know if they still teach it."

Scorpius shook his head. He would have heard someone taking about it if they were.

His dad handed over the willow wand. "Never really used it, but I can teach you what I did learn. It's a lot of concentration, and willpower." His father drew his own wand, closing his eyes. Several seconds later, the tip glowed gently. "See?"

Scorpius nodded, eyes focused on that light. If he could do that...

If he could...

He closed his eyes, thinking of that light spell, _lumos_. If this was like flying lessons, then all he had to do was visualize. He printed it in blue ink in his mind. Then imagine it running together, down his arm and into the length of wood.

Light burst against his eyelid. He peeked. A bright light flared from his wand.

He'd done it.

His father smiled, but he caught the small hint of relief as he said, "Well done."

He swept from the room. Scorpius admired the light for a while, finally letting it die when what could be described as mental exhaustion crashed into him. Shatter crawled up his neck, glass tongue flicking over his temple in a fond way. Scorpius relaxed against the headboard. He couldn't just show up at Hogwarts and do this, but it was nice to know that he could use magic after all, maybe secretly get back at his tormentors. He could practice in private, and he could teach McCoy. She'd love this.

And tiny practiced spells became part of runs, ones he wrote on at the beginning of last year. He found that directing the magic out was easy, but getting it to do the task at hand was the hard part. It made him glad no one was there to witness these mistakes, if only because they might come away missing something.

In the midst of this, the list arrived just as he was about to go for the morning run. He left it on the table and off he went.

The air was warm already, and he let it slide past his shoulders as they followed the sidewalk down to where they cut through to a hidden clearing, and they ran in circles around the patches of wildflowers with arms spread wide. There is nothing quite like a childhood in August.

Dizzy, he eventually flopped down on the ground, looking at the fairy blue sky.

He'd be thirteen when he came back for Christmas. Thirteen! He was barely feeling twelve and now he had to be thirteen! How did a thirteen year old act?

Trying to imagine this strange new number, he whistled for Athena, currently digging something up, and started running back home. Scorpius was pretty sure thirteen had something to do with not thinking girls were terrifying and starting to think they were pretty, and that was terrifying all on its own.

He climbed up the stairs, the doors creaking open. His father was reading the list.

"Go change. We leave in five minutes."

Scorpius sighed, and he and Athena climbed the many stairs.

It took several minutes of digging around, but he finally located something his dad would approve and his classmates would minimally glare at. Then he went all the way back down. His father was waiting, list in one hand while the other supported Winter's girl.

"Don't. Complain."

Scorpius made a sound deep in his throat that sounded like a groan.

"I just said-"

Scorpius grabbed his father's arm and they Apparated to a side alley of Diagon Alley.

"-Don't complain," he finished quietly. Chione was whimpering quietly about feeling, "squeezy."

They slid from the alleyway, in that instant becoming a game of how much they could find before the crowd recognized them.

Today, Diagon Alley was packed with parents and children, including many confused muggles asking for help from others with children while trying to simultaneously keep an eye on their brood.

"Let's get books first, that's always quick."

The shop was quiet, as always, books stacked high on each surface and bookshelves packed, the air smelling of paper and dust and time. Things whispered to each other in the back aisles. The school section was all set up, the books lined up and on display, and his father began quickly scanning titles. To help out a little, since he wasn't very keen on being here long himself, Scorpius took his sister and they went to explore the other aisles.

There wasn't much to see, but the letterings and the different cover textures held her attention pretty well.

"Wolfie!" she said quietly, jerking one from the shelf. He jumped, quickly taking it from her. There was a wolf painted onto the spine below the title, _Claws and Talons: Becoming Animagus._ Figuring it was some weird biography, he started to slide it back into place.

The wolf on the spine stared at him, then sat and howled silently.

Must be a spellbook then. But what was an animagus? The book was a touch elderly, probably written in the last century, but obviously wasn't some best seller to end up tucked in a back shelf corner of Flourish and Blotts. He let it fall open to the middle, sitting on the floor.

"_...Protect the human aspect of the mind, you must-"_

"Oops."

Winter's girl had torn part of the next page. Scorpius winced, glancing around. He could just put it back on the shelf. But it could be spelled or something. But-

"Excuse me," the book seller leaned over him. "What happened?"

He ducked his head, holding out the book. Chione helped.

"You _tore_ a book?"

"M tary," Chione said quietly.

"I'm sorry? That's a book! You don't just-How old are you?"

Chione held up her fingers. Scorpius held up two.

Now the book seller chuckled. "Oh. Well, one of you will have to pay for that. It's..." He looked at the cover page. "Two sickles and four knuts. The knuts are because of damage."

Scorpius immediately checked his pockets, digging out the amount. The book seller took the money and disappeared behind his counter a moment and then came back with the book and a receipt. "Now don't be so foolish again, either of you."

Scorpius nodded, Chione copying him, though she was probably distracted by the shop across the street. He clasped the book to himself while waiting on his father.

Back outside, it was on to the next place.

Somewhere along the route, Fred draped himself over Scorpius's shoulder.

"Hey Score, wanna see what I invented this summer?" He held up a black quill. "It's a quill that writes in the air, you see!" He adjusted his fingers, and wrote the word _'see?' _in the air.

It was like a regular quill. The ink was black, but it had a dose of blue sparkles. Scorpius blinked and waved his hand through it. The writing dissipated.

"See, you hold it here and here to dispense the ink, and if you twirl it between your fingers the writing flips around for others to read it." He demonstrated as he talked. "You and McCoy each get a free one, since you guys were the inspiration." Fred pressed the quill into his hand. "Only comes in one color, but Da's helping me invent more. When the quill starts turning white, it's running out, but after that you can use it like a regular quill. Brilliant, right?"

Scorpius blinked, mind trying to catch up to all the information.

"I'm going to find McCoy! She has to be here, everyone is!"

Fred disappeared into the crowd. Scorpius took several deep breaths, then glanced at his father. He had a strange look on his face.

"Weasley, huh?"

Scorpius shrugged at the ground. He was going to die...

Instead, a flicker of unreadable expression, and they continued on their way.

They nearly finished shopping before someone realized that the Malfoys were among them, while Scorpius was getting robes fitted.

"Really, children just grow out of these things so quickly in the first two years, then they're fine, then they regrow about the fourth or fifth year!" She muttered things around a mouthful of pins. Madam Malkin insisted that each set of robes she sold fitted perfectly.

Looking at him, then his father, she quickly adjusted something, muttering something else about "like his father, will grow to about..."

When they were almost done, someone entered. Two pairs of someone. Ron Weasley and co, and Harry Potter and James.

His father nearly dropped the book he was holding, fumbling to catch it.

"Malfoy," Ron Weasley hissed. His father said nothing, detangling Chione from the wizards dress robes she was caught in.

Madam Malkin, sensing the tension, finished her work and quickly folded the robes.

"Hey Score."

Scorpius, who had been trying to hide out of window sight when Rose snuck up on him, jumped.

"This is my brother Hugo. He's attending this year."

He looked down at a mob of brown curls, nodding. Hugo glared, opening his mouth.

"The bet, Hugo."

He shut up.

"I bet him a galleon he couldn't insult you without parroting Da. What do you think?"

He blinked, looked at Hugo, then Rose, and slammed his head against the wall.

Ron, meanwhile, was hissing insults. This was because Harry and Hermione were across the store.

"-Don't e-"

Chione burst into a wail, finally upset at the tension and the strange man talking in the mean tone. Draco Malfoy gave Ron a mighty glare, then tried to comfort his daughter, sobbing loudly onto his robes.

"Ronald!"

"_Mr._ Weasley!"

"Ron!"

"Uncle!"

"Da!"

"Stupid little bitch," Hugo muttered.

The room, which had burst into shouting, froze as Scorpius held his wand to Hugo's throat. Eyes narrowed, he was almost surprised to hear he had pulled a growl out of somewhere. Even Chione was quiet, eyes wide.

This was the scene when someone else entered.

Birch looked around, gave Scorpius a small, chilling smile, and left, screaming.

"Scorpius. Lower your arm," his father commanded. His eyes flicked to him, then back to Hugo. He stayed the way he was.

"That means now."

There was no mistaking the dangerous tone in his voice. Grudgingly, he lowered his arm, stepping past the terrified boy to stand next to his father. Winter's girl leaned over, trying to catch a lock of hair.

"Here's your robes." Malkin levitated the bag over. "I'll send you a bill."

They Apparated out.

§•§

What followed over the next several days was a series of conversations with just about every family member. There was Lucius: "You really should have just hexed him. A threat teaches little." (He gave him a list of unpleasant and subtle hexes); his grandmother Narcissa: "There were five other adults in that room who might have hurt you! What were you thinking? Chocolate frog?" (There was a list of of hexes and jinxes in the box. His grandmother remembered counters as well); his parents repeat-cycle terrified speeches: "You could have been hurt!" "Potter's Head Auror, what if he had arrested you?" "That was dangerous!" "You could have killed him by accident! Or been killed!" "What were you _thinking_?" (And they almost expected him to respond, they would get so worked up); and Zerel: "The little master rushed into that one, he did! Zerel is so disappointed! He should have thought first! He should have jinxed the boy's tongue! Little master will have to be careful this year!" Sigh. "Little master, if the boy causes trouble, little master will call Zerel to coat his tongue in tar and drag him backwards across a field of spikes by it?" (Zerel was the only one who knew that Hugo had insulted Chione. She had gifted him a tiny handcarved whistle, since he was incapable of calling her by voice) Shatter showed his disappointment by roughly nipping his wrist on occasion.

He spent almost no time in the manor, instead he was out running or exploring the woods. He found a stream, one that widened out into a river, he was sure, and he spent his remaining summer days by it, playing or sitting, reading over the curses gifted to him by his grandparents or a book. That is, till Athena would get bored of him not paying her attention, and start barking loudly.

September first rolled around, he stood at the station, Shatter curling soothing circles around his wrist, and he stepped onto the train. He'd probably be friendless this year. He had threatened James's, Fred's and Albus's cousin, Rose's little brother, and Birch had seen it. New injury record, here he came.

Lily was standing there. He hadn't noticed the last time, but she had amazing eyes. Blue on the outside, but the color surrounding the pupil was orange. It was beautiful.

She smiled brightly. "Remember me?"

He nodded slightly. Lily hugged him tightly and bolted.

"Scorpius! Come on!" James waved him over, and Rose, in her usual surprise way, already had his luggage.

Scorpius rolled his eyes and carried the owl cage.

§•§

The first month was okay.

He was terrified of Birch, but other than a tiny rumor about the robe shop, nothing.

October, however, things got back to normal.

"I've been planning this. I've got spells any everything." Birch grabbed the back of his robe in one hand and his backpack in the other. "Come on, Malfoy."

He was almost dragged along the empty halls he had been so stupidly wandering, down to the little hall.

"Now." Punch. "I hope we haven't," kick to the knee, "forgotten anything.

It blurred into flashes of pain and strangled whimpers, and he was sure that there was someone else there, but he couldn't tell because he was seeing stars and his ears rung.

He woke up.

"Hold still, I'm setting your arm."

Scorpius risked raising his head a little, feeling like dead weight and pain. James was running his wand over his arm, glancing at an open book as he did so. Muttering a series of spells, bruises faded, his arm knit into regular shape, and pain receded.

Deciding to trust his stand-in healer, Scorpius nearly passed out again.

"Don't go to sleep now. Come on. I think you have a concussion and I did my best, but I'm not a professional." James pulled him upright, picking up something silvery lying on the floor. "Invisibility cloak. Stole it from my da, first year. Come on." He threw it round himself and put an arm around Scorpius, and the two found their way upstairs.

"Found 'im!" James quietly told the painting. The Fat Lady peered at Scorpius and smiled. "I'm glad. We were worried, you know! You've been gone since yesterday!"

Yesterday? He'd been passed out in the war memorial that long?

James whispered the password and helped him ease into the common room. Scorpius glanced at the stairs and decided he would rather just sleep on the carpet.

"Come on, Score. I don't let my little brothers sleep on the floor."

§•§

They hadn't touched him since. Maybe James had threatened them, but again, Birch was playing dodge. Instead, Birch and Hugo had apparently teamed up to spread the news about how Hugo was unjustly attacked. It went from just the wand to mouthing a spell before Hugo attacked him back. What spell varied from day to day.

About December it hit the all time low; Scorpius, unbeknownst to himself, had apparently tried to cast an Unforgivable on Hugo, who had bravely defended himself against the Killing curse!

Fred was currently laughing himself blue about it, as Sean, who despite his friendly end last year was glad to switch his side back this year, told the story with great bravado. He really seemed to believe it.

Scorpius couldn't even laugh anymore, he was trying to choke down air, feeling it brush his raw throat. Leaning against the wall, he gasped, hearing the same reaction from Rose and James across the room. Everyone else bought in just fine, despite hearing about four other versions in the last two months.

It was impossible to believe, that this was the year of the Battle of Hogwarts. Impossible that here was the place where people had died to end prejudice, and here he was subjected to it.

Scorpius found it funny.

"He's laughing! Look at 'im! Compassionless bastard!"

The laughter froze in his lungs. And then something else was in his lungs. He looked up at two people retracting their wands, and closed his eyes, coughing into his sleeve, trying to breathe he something filling his lungs like water. There was no mistaking the metallic-salt taste. Blood. He was drowning in his own blood. He began coughing violently, trying to get in air, but he couldn't, and instead scarlet spattered on the ground, the room at first quiet with shock, then roaring with sound. It took a few seconds to realize that they weren't going to help, they were cheering, or screaming in fear. Blood coated the inside of his mouth as he struggled, dripped from his teeth and the sleeve.

Rose and Fred was shouting before he passed out, unable to breathe.

He was in the infirmary when he woke, his father clasping his hand and whispering something in a language he didn't know, but each second that went by it was easier to breathe.

Eventually he dropped the hand and looked at him. Scorpius was suddenly aware of the lines and scars and the grey in his father's hair, and how tired he looked, like he hadn't gotten enough sleep in years and was carrying weights strapped to his chest.

"-Really, you'd have to thank James over there for fast thinking. Could have died if he hadn't done that charm."

"Hugo, don't you get it? He's a living person! You do not celebrate someone nearly dying! I don't care what you think of his last name!"

"But Da-"

"Your father put up with a time when Scorpius's father-" Hermione glanced over. Scorpius watched his father put his head in his hands.

"I was a prideful git. A brat, a monster, whatever you were going to say. But Scorpius is not me, and more than enough people on the street try to teach him his proper place, I don't see why his own House should too."

The room was quiet, Ron by the door finally saying quietly, "You won't defend your own son?"

"What would you have me do, Weasley?" His eyes were lost and sad, staring at the bedspread. "If I tell them not to it goes in the _Prophet _as an unprovoked threat. I can't keep him locked up at home all the time either..."

Scorpius pulled himself into a sitting position, looking around the room. Mum leaning against the wall with Madam Pomfrey, his medical file in their hands. James standing nearby. Hugo sitting on a second bed with Hermione staring across at him. Ron Weasley near the doorway. His father next to him. McGonagall sitting in a chair, head in her hands at the mess her school was. And strangely, Lucius, sitting in a chair with his hands carefully wrapped around the head of his cane, Harry Potter sitting next to him wearing a parole Auror badge. Lucius didn't make any appearance of having heard the conversation, instead choosing to look outside the window. And now the entire room held its breath, waiting for his opinion. As always, he demanded his respect.

He said nothing, shaking his head slowly. "One should not expect to outlive their own grandchildren." He stood, leaning heavily on the cane. "And yet I do. And I have done so for years."

He limped out.

Harry was forced to follow, and the sound of the door shutting echoed undisturbed in the room. It took several minutes for them to stir, and even then they remained silent. Scorpius leaned back on his hands, watching the room interact.

"I had hoped," McGonagall said quietly, "That this wouldn't happen. But I'm afraid this coming year will be hard for him. It's a memorial year, and horrible things will be said."

Scorpius gave her a confused look.

"The year of the actual event, child, has been dubbed the reflection year. The actual memorial year is always the year after. Therefore, the twenty-first year after the Battle is the memorial year." McGonagall flipped through a file. "And... I'm planning something for Dumbledore as well. A year off, but it didn't seem right to have a memorial during a reflection. Besides, there was that quirk about threes..."

Scorpius nodded, with the room.

Speaking of Dumbledore, Albus entered the room, quietly, shutting the door. Scorpius listened to the sound of his father choking on a mouthful of water with a grin. The green and silver on Al's robes tended towards that reaction. He sat down in the other chair, waving a hand slightly to Hugo.

"Had any problems with the trees this year, Score?" he asked, looking at the room. He looked completely casual, chin in his hands and fingertips slowly tapping his temple.

"The trees, Mr. Potter?" Headmistress McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "As far as I'm informed, we only have one troublesome tree. The Whomping Willow."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Professor." He turned his strange, green stare to her. "I find the birches to be especially troublesome. They should probably be trimmed, don't you think?"

"Hogwarts doesn't have birches," Hermione Weasley said slowly, as if explaining to a young child.

McGonagall suddenly clapped her hands to her mouth. "No! But..." She left the room in a hurry.

A few minutes later, Albus wandered after her. The room watched him leave.

"Now that is a child who worries me," Madam Pomfrey said quietly.

§•§

Birch was suspended. The wizarding world glossed over it, because the offending actions was only mentioned in one tiny tucked away article where no one would ever read it. However, the lungs issue was never resolved, other than being discovered as an artfully misused vacuuming charm. It tugged at the blood vessels till they broke, and Scorpius decided that he was never going anywhere without Shatter ever again.

After the holidays, the curriculum changed. Visitors, giving guest lectures. Sometimes for a day, sometimes a week or two. Under their words, some soft, some harsh, Scorpius heard a tale unfold. It wasn't a pretty one. It barely seemed possible it could have a happy ending. But their words were strong and their memories long. It was not lectures. It was stories, stories within stories. As the month of May grew closer, the castle became restless with these stories, and no one would meet another's eyes. The history books made it all seem so... Detatched. Cold. All numbers and names in print. But here were people who had seen and known, been those numbers and sat by those names. Here was a generation so brave they had stood and lived while someone not quite living or dead tried to bring them down.

How could they ever live up to that?

May second was coming, so very close. You could almost touch it.

When the day came, there was no classes. Instead, they listened to words of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Weasley. They did tell tales, leaving out nothing no matter how much they might have hated to tell it, and it wasn't just of the war. It was a tale of growing up, and the entire school was held in thrall until long past the sunset. They were not yet finished as house-elfs passed around food and the Houses silently filed away upstairs.

They all probably stayed up late, but talking was restricted to quick and quiet whispers. For hours, Scorpius tossed and turned, unable to sleep as visions swam through his mind, three versions of one tale all clicking so well and he felt so wrong, an alien visitor. His father had been so cruel...

Around one, he couldn't take it. He had to run. Scorpius kicked the comforter away, pulling on jeans and a shirt. He was betting on the air being warm. Then he crept down the stairs, trainers in hand.

He wandered through the halls, making his way to the door and knowing his ears would pick up a person before they him.

Today the echoes were loud. He could hear it, the battle sounds around him, yet the whispers of gentler times, and it threaded into a strange and odd music that tugged at him. He found his way to the doors, slipping out into the warm night.

The stars shone tonight. Like they had been dipped in liquid silver, they were bright and strong and so strangely warm, when they had always seemed cold.

Scorpius found a starting position and took off.

He could see flickering visions as he ran. Scenes of the fight happening around him in one step and gone with the other, replaced with others, some later, some earlier, and he stretched his stride and pushed his speed, trying to see the images run together. He ran the familiar trail around the castle, eyes seeing both the landscape and the fight, and it was horrifying, but he had to see more.

He had to have done several laps. When he finally sat down on the grass, he ached, was coated in sweat, breath ragged. Scorpius wished Shatter was with him to curl around him, heal his pains, but he hadn't expected to try this.

Overhead, silver-dipped stars had moved, replaced by others, and some were fading. Dawn was coming, but he was so tired. He could just doze here, no one would miss him...

"Well would you look at that."

At the sound of a gruff, heavy voice, Scorpius shot up. He'd fallen asleep on a little patch of grass and dew was settling on his skin. The sun was rising. He blinked up at Hagrid and Harry Potter, walking side by side. Unable to see their expressions cloaked in shadow, he huddled apologetically, gazing up at them with sleepy eyes as he tried to persuade his leaden limbs to work.

"Shouldn't he be in his dorm?" Harry's tone was strangely almost concerned.

"Well 'e might ave been out running. Does that, 'e does, always waves when he passes my hut. Grins too, like it's the best day on earth..."

"But why would he be sleeping on the lawn?"

Ron Weasley's voice, a little suspicious, shocked him from where he'd been sitting up back into crouching, eyes straining to pick him up in the meager light.

"Why does he do that?"

"'E's a mute, an' shy too. Well, come on then!" Hagrid leaned down, and Scorpius found himself settled on a giant arm, gazing over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione. The rising sun peeked a ray across the horizon in time to catch Ron's scowl, which was quickly softening for reasons unknown, and Hermione's carefully expressionless features.

He tried to stay awake, telling himself that he might miss the rest of the story, but he couldn't. He dropped off close to the doors.

When he woke up, it was because James was shaking him. "Hey, come on, Score. Why are you still asleep?"

Scorpius blinked sleepily, glancing at the watch on James wrist. Eight. Assuming sunrise was about 4:30, he'd had only three and a half hours.

"You not sleep much?" James asked. He shook his head. "Well, come on. There's a story to finish. You can sleep after, but don't kill your sleep schedule now. Come. Up and at em." James shoved him into a sitting position and then released his shoulders. He blinked up at him and then fell back, hugging his pillow in self-defense.

"He up yet? If he doesn't hurry, I'm not helping him with his homework!"

Scorpius made a rude gesture before the voice caught up to the words. He opened the eye not blocked by the pillow.

Girls. Could enter. The dormitories. Right. That was in the story.

Rose stalked over, grabbed his arm and yanked him from the safety of his bed. He sat on the floor, yawning. She then dug through his trunk, coming up with a school robe. "Just throw it over the jeans and things. No one will really care." She tossed it and paused. "I'm not even going to ask."

Scorpius disentangled his head. Shatter was winding over her wrist, and she had a slightly panicked look. Shatter, for the most part, didn't notice, once again forgetting gravity and trying to wind his way straight up into the air. About the point he'd almost made it, he ended up spinning around her wrist by his tail, giving the ground a confused look as he dangled. He dropped the floor, Scorpius working up the energy for a wince, and then slithered up her leg, around her waist and on the joint between her arm and shoulder. Rose had a fearful look. "What's it going to do?"

Finally getting his arms through the robe sleeves, he reached up, taking the quill on his dresser, and wrote _Sit there, really_ in black letters.

"Really?"

He nodded, tired.

"Well... Why?"

Scorpius shrugged, not in an explanation mood, then stumbled to his feet and leaned on the bedpost as he unwound Shatter. Shatter, despite his lack of pupils, eyebrows, and human facial muscles managed to convey an angry deadpan look, of the '_I was working!'_ type. Scorpius rolled his eyes, watching Shatter curl around his arm under the loose sleeves. His arm started to feel better already, the sore muscles being soothed under Shatter's healing magic.

"Come on." James, who didn't look as though he had seen this, (But then again, James' eyesight had been worsening all year) began to herd them downstairs. Rose and James had to keep Scorpius from falling over more than once on the way to the Great Hall.

Inside, they settled beneath a vaulted blue ceiling on carved names and cushions and turned their attention to the second part of the words unfolding.

In the seconds between the first words and the ending of the sentence, Scorpius was awake. The tale got darker as the way wound along, and yet nothing was censored, nothing was left out, all their words and deeds and misdoings all there for everyone to see, bared soul and all. At the battle, their detailed words and the images from last night made it come alive in his mind.

When the final echoes of the bittersweet faded from the air, the spell was not yet gone. Instead of speaking, they stood as one, following the starry skies outside to the lake. One could see the whole of the grounds, imagine the damage, the dead, and yet... The hope.

For reasons he couldn't fathom, Scorpius found he had a small candle, one of the ones meant only to burn a few hours, in a form-fit flimsy little tin. Lighting it with his wandtip, he set it on the water, giving it the gentlest of pushes. On the still Black Lake, it floated, a tiny pinprick of flame like a reflection of a star.

Slowly, over the hour, they trailed inside. The spell the story didn't break, but slowly faded. A broken spell was gone. A faded spell left something behind.

Weeks later, everything was getting back to normal, everyone gearing up for Dumbledore's memorial. The school was going to be open for visitors then, and it was a frenzy to clean, and find places in the old Houses of those guests. McGonagall called Albus and Scorpius to her office.

"I have a task for the two of you..."

§•§

It was odd, to have his father at his school and standing over his shoulder. It was like he was judging his every movement. Thankfully, he wasn't alone. Many students had their parents and guardians standing over their every movement.

The legendary George was helping the Marauders prank everyone, and the castle was chaos. Some adults were frowning, but McGonagall just called it celebration of life. Better than detention.

The nights fell gloomily, the castle echoes alive with the whispers of old battles. Scorpius barely slept, instead sitting up to listen. He couldn't sleep. By day, he took the habit of hiding in the Muggle Studies classroom, where his father was guaranteed not to look.

A week of this, of daily speeches and parents and preparations and the night came.

The procession started at the gate, a line of students and adults, all equipped with a candle.

It wound across the grounds into the halls,

_These were the halls where he wandered_

Taking a long route to the Transfiguration classroom, where a waiting McGonagall joined them.

_This was the class that he taught_

From there it slid by the Headmasters office, where his portrait had been brought out to be propped up. He had spent the day watching and commenting to students with a smile in brushstroke eyes.

_This was the school that he cared for_

And then they whispered by the door of the Astronomy Tower, joining into a clump outside, at the base.

_This was where he was lost._

Scorpius and Al were ready, each holding a fiery feather as they stood at the top, and held them out. They drifted into the air as Al whispered the spell and the feathers became the wings of a phoenix made of fire, which soared over the crowd, the Forbidden Forest and away over the horizon. Scorpius never took his eyes from it once, only following Al down when he tugged on his sleeve. They joined the back of the line leading to the grave, each lighting their candle. A line of pinprick lights. On the metal tin of each candle was a name, one of the dead. They gathered around the grave in silence.

Most of the adults were joined in a line, hands on shoulders of their neighbors.

It was easy to guess who was left out. Draco Malfoy, still blamed for a death he didn't commit and didn't want to, watched the grave and stood alone, a crowd of green and silver at his back. He was one of four to come from that House. Maybe other alumni were ashamed or maybe they just didn't care to show their faces. But four stood alone.

Slowly, a hand reached across the gap and settled on his shoulder. He returned the favor.

Maybe that was a signal. Victoire Weasley began to sing softly in her perfect voice. Scorpius never remembered the words, but he remembered it was soft and sad and hopeful and her sister joined, and somehow everyone found words that fit and blended, and Scorpius was surrounded by sound. Silent.

The schoolyear did not end with a bang, it did not stop with air charged to the point of waiting for thunder to break. It ended softly, drifting away in a sea of remembrance, like a candle on the water.

* * *

As I said...

Please review


	8. Chapter 7: Hyperion

Now we've had our sad-angst-remembrance chapter, the main event! On to Lilydom!

* * *

Lily had packed and repacked twice over the week. It was only Sunday.

Right now, she was in the act of packing a third time, settling a set of robes into the trunk bottom and putting her textbooks over that. She checked all their titles as she put them inside, feeling a satisfaction as she glanced at her Defense Against the Dark Arts book. She knew the teacher for that class.

"Lil. Lily. Lu. Luie!"

Lily rolled her eyes at the list of nicknames. "What, James?"

He looked at her through his new glasses. "Do I look like a dork? I don't trust Albus to tell me the truth! And I can't ask Fred and Da's no good and..."

Lily smiled. "I think... You're going to lose all your fangirls. Down to the last one."

He put his head in his hands. "Never... Never mind. I'll... I'll just ask Score at the station. He's nicer than either of you."

"Oh, NICE! Well... You're qualified for wizard chess club! You... Um... Still will lose fangirls though."

James whined, an animal sound, and scurried away. Lily grinned. James had really looked fine, but she was just getting back for all the teasing she'd ever put up with.

She went back to packing. Socks, spare shoes, quills, she went through everything. Lily had to have everything, she had to succeed at everything. Because her cousins and brothers had already done everything between them, she had to make her name by doing everything.

Sitting on her trunk, she sighed.

"You okay, Lils?"

Lily looked up at her father, for once not at his office. "How can I?"

"How can you what?" He entered the room to sit on her bed, sweeping dark hair from his eyes.

"Do everything! I want to do everything at Hogwarts! Quidditch captain and best at my classes and prefect and Head Girl and-and-and everything!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Lily looked at her socks, which had red on the toes and heel. "Because otherwise I won't be known for anything! Everyone else in this family did something big or great or-"

"Because they were things they were good at. You can't do everything, Lily. You'll break down from stress," he said frankly.

"But Da! I have to!"

Da smiled, setting a hand on her head. "Do you? You could just do exceptionally well at one thing."

Lily grouched. "Been done."

"Lily, believe me, you don't need to do that to be remembered."

"Well I can't go on famous adventures!"

"You can! They just won't be death-defying."

"But Da, that's what makes them famous!"

"Lily," her father sighed. Lily kicked her feet, waiting. Da took her hands. "Lily, believe me, I think you'll be remembered for more than just a school activity. Just be yourself and see what happens, okay?"

Lily looked at her father, then the pile of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes hiding behind her closet door.

"But don't do any dramatic pranks, please?"

Lily looked her father right in his green eyes and said, "Yes sir!"

She lied. Once Da left, relieved, she packed every thing in there. Then she looked around her room. This Wednesday, she was leaving, for Hogwarts. She'd leave behind this pink and blue room that had been owned by the youngest member of her family since they have lived here, and so Lily had lived in this room since Albus was two. There was still the old wallpaper in a corner, where they had left it while taking down the rest. Her baby blanket, a very pale blue and decorated in white designs of teddy bears, was folded on her pillow. There was books on the shelves from every age of her life, there was scars in the walls from accidental magic from her childhood, there was photos and posters and pinned up wishes cut out from catalogs, creatures and toys she intended to save for or that she never got and just stayed up.

She was leaving this behind.

Lily sat on her bed and thought of a boy with white-blond hair and the surname he shared with the teacher who would always be her favorite.

§º§

Scorpius spent his summer much like his last. Running. In the process of becoming a teenager, he was starting to become distant from his parents, seeing them only at dinner, the only meal he sat through with his family. He spent his time on summer homework or outside, and his skin had even tanned slightly. It would be gone by mid-autumn, he was sure, but who cared? It was better than sunburns.

He barely even saw Winter's girl, who had run her nickname into one word, Wintergirl. It was catching. His father slipped at dinner one evening and called her it, and the table smiled a little, despite themselves.

And yet somehow, he found himself spending time with Lucius. The elderly man would discuss and Scorpius would write back, and Scorpius found out, in a roundabout way, about much of the history of his family, their ideals, their businesses. Collective pieces of information.

He had finished packing his trunk, grooming Athena's fur. She was a full-grown dog now, large, and long-furred, though she was still obviously part German shepherd. Maybe border collie.

Finishing running the brush through her fur, he set it aside as the door opened. Scorpius looked at his mother.

"I got you more journals, in case you need them." She held out a pack of five spiral-bound notebooks, still in the plastic wrap. He nodded and took them, peeling off the plastic and tossing it absently in the wastepaper basket. It belched.

"You need a haircut."

Scorpius snapped his head up, looking at Mother and just then noticing the strands of blond hair in his face. He tucked them behind his ears.

"Zerel!"

Scorpius made a break for his bed, sliding under it as the house-elf appeared, equipped with a pair of silver scissors.

"Zerel be here, Mistress Astoria! The little master does need a trim!"

Not trusting any of them with a pair of scissors near his head, Scorpius glanced at the two, then the door, timed the distance and ran for it. He hopped up on the stair railing, sliding down and landing cat-like on a landing, barely noticing the man talking with his father as he dashed the distance to Lucius's study. He knew he had no business today.

Scorpius slid through the carved door, shutting it quietly and leaning against the wall. Lucius was working. Taking a few deep breaths, his breathing steadied.

_Crack._

"Little master shouldn't run away like that! Twill be done in a moment!" Zerel wielded the scissors.

"Zerel," Lucius said, finishing a scroll.

Zerel turned, bowing. "Zerel is very sorry, Elder-master, but Zerel has been told-"

"He's fine."

"But boys shouldn't have long hair like that!"

Lucius raised an eyebrow, glancing up for a mere moment. Scorpius covered his mouth as he sniggered, looking at the elderly man's long silver hair. Zerel thought over her earlier statement.

"Well, Little master shouldn't."

Scorpius reached a hand out to the door.

"Zerel, Scorpius."

The tone put an end to Zerel's hair-trimming ideas, and to Scorpius's of escaping. Zerel left with a crack.

Scorpius stayed and had a conversation with Lucius. It was a bit boring, and strayed a little into things concerning The Talk, (Prompt and subtle redirection occurred) and overall it was only the power of his respect for him that kept Scorpius paying attention.

"Right, dinner. There's a guest. Smarten up."

Which was why, when at home dress business casual. Okay, so he was wearing trainers, but they could deal with that!

The guest was a man who was the father of a Slytherin girl. Who he had brought. He talked too much and about subjects that were either trivial or made you realize how well-trained in manners they were when they didn't wince or snap. Sitting next to his father, he saw him grab his arm angrily at more than one point, nails gouging at the mark Scorpius did his best not to stare at.

"You're a rather quiet young man, aren't you?" he asked Scorpius. Scorpius, thankfully, had already finished his food, so he had nothing to choke on. His daughter, however...

Grandma Narcissa passed her an extra napkin. She cleaned herself up.

"He's a mute," Mother said in clipped tones, the one that promised to gouge the man's lungs out with a rusty spoon dipped in acid if he said anything about it.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Scorpius was carefully gripping the arms of his chair so they couldn't see how tense he was. He was giving him this look, like he was an idiot.

"So how does he learn?"

"He lacks voice, not brains. Scorpius is more than capable of listening, a skill many seem to lack nowadays." Lucius looked at the doorway. "It seems your dog is waiting, Scorpius."

Athena sat in the doorway, leash in mouth. Scorpius took a guess she was being signaled under the table, because now she trotted forward, head high to sit and wag her tail hopefully.

"Why don't they go play with her in the yard? I'm sure two teenagers would rather be anywhere but here right now."

The girl winced slightly, guilty. Scorpius didn't react. The man smiled slightly. "Go on, Amber."

Scorpius took the leash from Athena, folding it up and snapping his fingers as he walked out. She heeled.

Once he was a far enough distance down the hall, he began slowly banging his forehead against the wall.

"Yeah, my dad has no tact. I know. Don't we have a mutt to play with?"

Scorpius barely even glanced at her as he walked down the hall, heading for the stairs.

"Hey! I know you can hear me!"

He flashed her a gesture in response, taking the stairs two at a time.

"HEY!"

But Scorpius beat her up the stairs, waiting by his bedroom door till she finally appeared.

Then he shut the door in her face, locking it.

"HEY! What the hell!"

Scorpius quickly changed, in case she remembered the unlocking spell they learned in first year. He opened the door again as she looked about ready to kick it.

"Look, can you not be an ass? I have to put up with you for an hour, and wherever you're going I have to go too."

Scorpius looked down at her dress clothes and then dug around, coming up with a clean pair of jeans and a shirt, both too small for him. He tossed them at her.

"Wha-Okay..."

Five minutes later, they hit the doors, Scorpius jogging and Amber lagging.

"Seriously though," she caught up. "My dad is nuts. He wants me to marry YOU one day!"

Scorpius tried not to gag. Like hell he would.

"Don't get me wrong, you're-fuck! Damn rocks-a nice guy, but not my type, specially for looks. Rather marry one of the Scamander twins."

Scorpius rolled his eyes, less interested by the second. Tired of jogging, he began to run.

He left her in the dust.

Fifteen minutes and a whole lot of sidewalk later, he stopped and waited, leaning against a streetlight. When she finally appeared, she was holding her flats, panting as she ran.

"Damn... You're... Fast! You have...some sort of... Speed charm?"

Athena shook herself, anxious to keep going.

Well, here's hoping Amber had more than one pair of tights. Scorpius slid through the hedge into the forest, following the trail to the stream. It wove among trees and bushes alike, a winding pattern of flattened and dead grass that he knew his way through only from habit. Athena bounded along, barking loudly at anything and everything. Amber stumbled along behind them.

At the stream, he sat by the water, watching it move swiftly under the glimmers of starlight working its way through the trees. Athena bounded through the stream, Amber collapsing next to him and looking like she never wanted to stand again. She trailed fingertips in the water.

"That wasn't an insult. I actually like the Scamander twins. Lysander's a flirt but he's an adorable flirt."

Scorpius pressed a hand to his face.

"Hey, it's not just me! Half the girls in our year like him, so there! Also, most of last year's first years, but they like anybody who will glance at them more than once."

Scorpius instantly thought of Lily. She had to be coming this year. Would she end up crushing on that sad excuse for a Ravenclaw? He really hoped not... Not that he was sure why. It just seemed wrong.

"We should go back."

On the way back, Scorpius ran slow enough Amber could keep up but fast enough she had focus on breathing instead of talking. Athena looked disappointed at this slow pace.

Amber's father looked a bit disappointed when they came back, air between them still cold enough to freeze. His family looked relieved. The two were quickly shepherded away, and they collapsed in the drawing room.

"Oh, thank Merlin. Thought he would never leave! You sure she'll give him a bad report?"

Scorpius nodded, draping himself over a couch arm. Maybe he should play matchmaker, get Lysander and Amber together. Now if her could only tell Lysander and Lorcan apart.

"Didn't like him," Chione muttered into her grandmother's side. "Gave me funny looks."

Scorpius once again discovered his ability to growl. Apparently it involved spit. Weird.

"Scorpius, don't." His father looked at the clock. "Go to bed, you have to be at King's Cross tomorrow."

Scorpius nodded, heading upstairs, but instead of sleeping opened a new journal.

_Dear Lily,_

_You won't believe what happened this evening..._

§•§

Lily skipped her way to King's Cross platform nine, holding a cat carrier, and humming to herself. She was going to Hog-warts! She was going to Hog-warts!

Her brothers could barely keep up, pushing the carts with their things. She grinned back at them and then skipped her way up to the barrier, waiting. When they came into sight, she leaned against the barrier, falling through and showing the ticket collector her ticket with a bright smile. He smiled. "Have a good year, child."

Lily walked away, still holding the cat carrier as James and Albus raced in. The two were followed several minutes later by their parents, who had sanely walked.

In that time, James and Al were trying to convince Lily that the entrance test was battling the Giant Squid. It wasn't working.

"If it was, you would have never made it into Hogwarts! You can't swim in a bathtub!" Lily said, turning her nose up. The audience laughed.

"I know. That's why I fought a troll."

"You mean someone else fought it while you fainted."

"I didn't-Score!" James descended on a boy with white-blond hair. "Do I look like a dork?"

Score narrowed his eyes with a smirk.

James blinked. "On second thought, I don't want an answer from you either."

Lily looked at Scorpius, who looked at her, then Al standing next to her. She grinned. "Hi!"

§º§

Lily was a Potter. He felt stupid for not realizing yet. He thought Lil was just a jab at her height, but really it was just dropping the last letter in her name.

He could see the resemblance. She and Al shared their eyeshape, though the coloring was all her own. She was lanky, young as she was, with fiery hair. Not quite red, not blond, but a strange mix of colors and shades in the spectrum that was like flickering firelight.

Her grin was fading from his lack of response. Almost panicking, but suppressing it, he smiled softly, not sure what to do. Instantly, she sparked back to life, bounding over to hug him.

Yup, still the Lily he met two years ago. Not a drop of hatred, and still small. He hugged her head.

"There something I should know about, you two?"

Lily stuck her tongue out at James, still hugging him. Scorpius, spotting the almost invisible threat gleaming in his eyes, immediately crossed his arms and set them on her head. Instant armrest!

Lily glared up at him. "Don't lean on me!"

He leaned.

"Hey!"

He stepped back. The tales of Albus and James swimming through his mind, Scorpius did not want to become the victim of her anger or pranks.

Appeased, Lily smiled up at him in a 'You're forgiven' way and then hugged him again.

"Scorpius. Who's your friend?"

Scorpius, wincing, turned his head to look at his grandmother. Her features were carefully neutral, but her eyes pierced his skin. She was not pleased. Lily, caught under the knife eyes, clung a little tighter even as he tried to push her away.

The entire station had noticed the stand-off, going about their business as they kept an eye trained on them.

The train whistle blew, a man instantly jumping in to throw their things onboard and shout at them to follow. Lily let go and bounded up onto the scarlet train. Scorpius followed the Potters at a slower pace, keeping eye contact with his grandmother. The door shut, and even as they train began to move, they both nodded, eyes still locked. He was rushed away.

"...Score...?"

He blinked and turned to look at James, whose eyes were wide. "You... You okay? You were... I mean..."

"Ice sculptures are nice, but your grandmother would clash with the station decor."

Score raised an eyebrow at Al, who took a step back. "Please don't. That look doesn't fit you."

Lily was standing behind her brother, and now something flew from behind Albus and hit Scorpius.

It exploded into a rather painful shade of purple-pink, causing Scorpius to close his eyes before he tried to claw them out. Urple was the most horrifying color in existence.

"Much better! You look nicer when you're not all cold and glarey."

Scorpius cracked open an eye, gazing through his lashes at her as Albus used to his wand to vacuum up the mess.

"Oh, let me do that, Al, you're turning the carpet orange."

A few quick seconds later, it was all cleaned up and Scorpius rolled his eyes at a widely grinning Lily. Her infectious smile, however, rapidly switched targets.

"Hi, Hugo!"

The air iced over. The group, as one, turned to look at him. The young Weasley gave Scorpius a look, taking Lily's shoulder. "Hi, Lily. Are you still mad we weren't in the same year?"

"No. Well... Yes. But not because we're in different years. It means I'm two years behind S-Al." Lily didn't notice the looks being directed at her cousin's back, till he offered for them to go find a cabin.

"Nah, mum made us promise we'd stay with her for the ride."

"Alright."

"Score will be with us."

Hugo glared. "I hope you realize what a bad idea that is." He marched off.

Lily looked a bit dejected. "I don't get it. What's wrong with Score?"

James raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, I know he's a Malfoy, but Scorpius is Scorpius, not Draco or Lucius!"

Al grinned. "I knew we did something right. Come on, lets go find seats."

Lily hefted her cat carrier higher. Scorpius picked up his owl cage. The group progressed down the hall, Rose peering into the cabins one at a time.

"Found on-Oh, hi, Lorcan."

Lorcan Scamander, pulling blond hair from his eyes, nodded. "Hello, Rose." He slowly smiled down at Lily. "Hi, Lily."

"Lorcy!" She hugged him. Lily seemed to be a hugger.

"Is there room in your cabin?"

"Yes, please. Lysander and I have been-"

"SCAMANDER!"

"-Hiding..." He ducked into the cabin, the group quickly cramming in as he shut the door. A girl stared hopefully at him from the other side of the glass. Since he still had his hand on the knob, she couldn't pull it open. She leaned forward, breathed on the glass, and wrote the words _Allie+Lysander, _drawing a heart around it.

Lorcan clapped a hand to his face as his twin smirked and jumped up, saluting causally. Allie blushed, waving, probably a bit embarrassed. It took practice to tell the twins apart at a glance. It was details. They both had blond hair, a shade almost as bright as Scorpius's, large blue eyes that made them seem either surprised or innocent, but Lysander was always messing with his hair, running his fingers through it. It was a bit Potterish, really. Which, since they were probably cradle-friends, might have been where he got it. Lorcan was almost always handling something, like he had to keep his hands busy or he'd lose them. At the moment, he had pulled out an old snitch, throwing it between his hands or mid-flight catching it. Lysander had inherited the gift that his mother Luna had for seeing or believing the thought-impossible. Lorcan, however, was the one with the dreamy attitude. They both, however, had her sense, ability to link up even small details to find things others miss, and bluntness.

Allie waved and mouthed something, pointing to the door handle. Lysander shook his head. She looked slightly dejected, but spotted something and dashed off.

"Really, some girls." Lysander collapsed back in his seat.

"You're only in third year... Why are you guys concerned with that?" James muttered, throwing luggage overhead.

"Because hormones? Oh, hey, Lil-kid." He leaned forward. "Still got those eyes..." He stared at her, holding her gaze.

Scorpius sat her down as the train bumped on the track.

"Oh. Sorry." Lysander looked out the window. Lorcan had slipped into a daydream, as the snitch flew around the cabin. Attention attracted to moving objects, Scorpius tracked its flight and snatched out of the air.

"Not bad," James muttered. Scorpius nodded, playing with the golden object just as Lorcan had, letting it fly off and snatching it, a suddenly scattered mind held by the act.

"Why doesn't Hugo like Scorpius?"

"Because he believed Uncle Ron. Only Uncle Ron's changed his tune this last year." Al.

"Wish I could've been in the same year, then I could've told him off." Lily.

"Yeah, age cut-off sucks. If it wasn't for that, I could have been a year above Al. But then I wouldn't have helped Score cause a foodfight, so..." Rose.

"He started that?" Lysander stared at Scorpius, whose attention scattered. He missed the snitch. Looking around, he realized the entire cabin was waiting on him. He looked at the floor, rubbing the back of his head as he nodded.

"Neat. Next time, warn me? Lor and I had cream and syrup in our hair for months." To illustrate his point, he examined his hair in the window reflection. "Mum thought benners got us at Hogwarts."

Rather than ask what that was, the cabin nodded.

Lily's carrier yowled. Well, not really yowled. It wasn't loud enough, but it was definitely a call for attention. Lily jumped and unzipped it and a cat jumped out.

It was a kitten, but a very prim kitten. It landed, pulling paws under itself as it surveyed the room from under the end of its pink nose.

"This is my kitty. His name's Hyperion."

Scorpius blinked, looking down at the grey cat, striped and spotted with black. Someone had thought to tie a ragged bandanna around his neck, and he was bearing it with pride. This was yet another moment where Scorpius was glad of no voice, leaving him without the need to point out that Hyperion was his middle name.

"Hyperion. Titan of light. Father of Helios, Selene and Eos," Rose recited from behind a book. "Also, Scorpius's middle name. I found that in a newspaper. I was looking up Quidditch scores from the year I was born."

"Oh, I knew _that!_" She picked up Hyperion, who got a slightly indignant look on his face, but then settled on his mistress's shoulder.

"I also know Eos is your little sister's middle name, because it was in the newspaper a few years ago in a small article about a miracle survival. I was too young to really get it, but mum explained it to me."

"...You're his personal stalker!" Lysander exclaimed.

"I'm lots of peoples personal stalkers. I just read the news and tape things into a picture. I know lots of things about you." Rose buried herself a little deeper into _Transfiguration: Year Five_ with that calm line.

Scorpius spent the train line as far away from Rose as possible, and trying to figure what was possessing Lily to knowledgeably decide she wanted her cat to share names with a Malfoy. Maybe she was sick, constantly, or something. Yeah, that was it.

She looked up at him and smiled, and Merlin, it was a lot like Wintergirl grinning, but her eyes lit with fire. Scorpius ducked his head again, thinking that in a strange way, he had known her forever, writing her letters and listening to her older brothers, but they had also just met.

But it was also a little farther. He could feel it, like some ancient memory he could never quite bring to light, he could tell how she might change and grow. It was going to be a beautiful friendship. This was going to be a great life.

* * *

And now I'm going to stand here and be ashamed of you all because not even one person even attempted a guess!

Here, I'll just dump a few hints: The two are characters. Lily meets one of them (Drastically narrowing the choices for character No.2), if you want to take a cheating route, just click on my profile. It should jump out a little at the top or in the story list.

If you guess a character, you win an OC insert! If you guess both, you get, you guessed it, TWO OC characters you can send to me to work into the story!

Review, folks! Lily be waiting!


	9. Chapter 8: Food Fight, Take Two

Congrats to Phub, Nuwame, and The Next Padfoot for guessing right! Janitor Dresden was the cross-over!

And [DRESDEN FILES SPOILER!] so was Maggie! Phub has given me two OCs, one of whom now starts appearances as the plot demands, and the other who starts where I can think to work him in XD

There may or may not be a point to this, but I guess we'll have to see. The plot is getting away from me...

* * *

Hogwarts was still there. It still loomed over the lake in the twilight. The carriages were still drawn by invisible beasts of burden. Hagrid was waving a lantern to call the first-years together. Scorpius saw, of all things, one with a dog in harness.

"Now, hold hard there!" Hagrid called to already retreating students. They paused. Some a little fearfully. "I need a student who can swim to ride in the boats. Third year or up."

Scorpius, shrugging, raised his hand in the gloom while everyone else hesitated, trying to get someone else to. However, once his hand was visible, several older students threw theirs in the air.

"Now, now, that's nice. Malfoy, your hand was up first. Come 'ere."

Separating from the mob, who were giving him silent threats, he walked next to Hagrid.

"Now, I need you to ride in a boat with one particular student. E's blind, yeh see, almost didn't come, but McGonagall turns away no one. The creatures in the lake 'ave been... Restless... This year, an' it's on'y a precaution..." Hagrid nodded to a boat with the dog-student, Lily, and a young boy. He slid into the boat, setting his backpack in the bottom and nodding to them all.

"Who're you?" The blind boy turned his head to him.

"This is Scorpius! He's a mute, and he's my brother's best friend." Lily looked up at him. "Why aren't you in the carriages?"

He waved at Hagrid, then at the blind boy next to him.

"Oh. Well this is my cousin Louis." She waved at the boy next to her, who waved a hand and looked down at the lake as the boats shot off across the lake. Scorpius gently grabbed the other boy's shoulder, steadying him enough to find his balance. "And that's Alan. You said your dog was named Mouse?"

Alan nodded, reaching out a hand to set it on Mouse's head.

Mouse was not mousey. Mouse was bigger than some creatures in Care of Magical Creatures. A seven year old would be able to use him as a pony. Dark grey with black accents, he blended well into the gloom.

His eyes were tracing the shape of something across the lake.

Scorpius watched the water. Hagrid's idea of restless was much more violent than most, and it gave him a creeping feeling across the back of his neck, like his skin was trying to crawl away without him. The Giant Squid emerged, began swimming large circles across the lake surface, and several other creatures were doing the same. Humanoids with odd skin colors and fish tails, mermaids, and strange creatures with long fingers and pointed horns. Scorpius kept his hands away from the boat edge, leaning over to quietly grab his bag, just in case.

The Giant Squid plowed through two boats, tipped several first-years right into the water, trying to get to Hagrid's boat. The mermaids did the same to several others, and Scorpius found himself in the water.

It was cold and dark, surrounded by water that pressed in all sides. Scorpius had a mouthful of water, barely able to tell that the way up was there.

He kept an eye in that direction, searching frantically for his student.

There! Mouse was trying to help both Alan and Louis, but both were panicked and it just wasn't working. Scorpius kicked over, grabbing Alan's arm. That was a bad idea, since he just panicked more, but he wrapped his arm around the kid's chest, swimming for the surface as Mouse tugged Louis and more than enough fur.

They hit the surface, Scorpius gasping for air. Alan stopped panicking long enough to breathe.

The Giant Squid, realizing the destruction it had caused, wrapped tentacles around the two of them, dropping them on a boat. Several other students were given the same treatment. It was overturned, but better than nothing. Scorpius checked his wand at his side, then pulled his backpack off, still sitting on the overturned hull.

Drying spell... Drying spell... He'd read this one! Come on...

He waved his wand, doing his best. The backpack became only damp. He opened it up, trying again on the notebooks within. Two tries later, they were dry, but still water-damaged.

Where was Lily? Louis was being dragged onto the boat, Mouse clinging to the side. But...

Shoving the bag at Louis, he dove over the side again.

She was wrestling with the creature with the long fingers, which had a grip on her neck. Or, at least, she had been when he entered the water. She was being dragged down now, limp. Mentally, he screamed. Instead, he worked up the Gryffindor courage he was supposed to have and followed it down, swimming as fast as he could and wishing the school robes weren't so damn heavy.

The creature had noticed her and had stopped, waiting for him. He got within reaching distance of Lily and it struck, reaching for him. He threw out an arm and it grabbed that instead in an incredibly strong grip.

Her lungs were aching, he didn't have long. He'd forgotten the idea of using a charm, since he didn't generally use magic, and he only had so long...

He couldn't move too fast in the water, which they were still sinking into. Scorpius grabbed the arm of this creature, looking at those long thin-Hey... Thin.

He released the arm and went for the hand, doing his best with only his bare hands to break a finger. It snapped easily, the creature screaming an eerie wail as he continued. It let go and he wrapped his arms around Lily, keeping it from tugging her off. But he couldn't breathe, he needed air, everything was blurry... If he could just...

Something slid up next to them, a blurry person shape with something neon orange on their head... The grip on Lily broke and he began heading for the surface. But was it? He couldn't...

The person tugged him up. He blacked out, then suddenly woke as air flooded his lungs. The surface! He coughed, blinking as he looked around. Someone was talking, he knew, but he couldn't tell. Lily was curled against him, the person talking was pushing them to a boat, and there was Hagrid. Weak, he gently pushed her into the giant-man's hands, the person throwing him onboard after. He rolled over the side and was content to lie there, cheek pressing against the planking and the back of his head against a trainer.

"-Dealing with a grindylow. Don't know what she was-here, can I? There we go. Cough it up-I don't know what Lily had been doing, but she does like getting into trouble."

Scorpius blinked, raising his head slightly to look at a man, arms anchored to the side of the boat as the rest of him sat in the water, long hair a neon orange with a thin but friendly face.

"So that's all of them, right?"

"That be em, Teddy. Yer a lifesaver."

"So is blondy down there-How you doing, kid?-so what?"

He could hear the sound of Hagrid muttering, obviously shaking his head. Scorpius, however, had his gaze locked on Teddy's hair.

He had screwed up his face for a moment, and the neon was shrinking, turning a dusty brown, while the hair became a much more respectable length. It gained waves, the ends curling inward slightly, brushing just above the jaw. Scorpius sat up, reaching out to snag a lock and look at it from several angles, looking for where the neon was hiding.

"Please don't. If you could ask, next time..."

"E's a mute, Teddy. Yeh shoulda gotten a note-"

"Oh! Sorry, forget I said anything. I'm a metamorphmagus."

The boats were moving slowly towards the shore now, an audience gathered. Scorpius huddled low, hoping not to be spotted. The crowd would probably blame him.

Mouse, who was probably tired of the slow pace, was paddling his boat to the shore, beating them all by ten paces.

"You should have heard that dog. Started barking and it was so loud, the entire castle came running. It had a rhythm too..." Teddy shook his head slowly. "Some pets."

They must have reached the shore. Teddy was getting taller, and taller...

"You okay?" Al's worried face appeared over the side, reaching out. Scorpius nodded, and Al pulled him up, helping him onto the shore. Scorpius leaned on his friend slightly, watching Louis being hugged by her sister, Dominique muttering things.

Mouse was offering his backpack. Nodding in thanks, he took it from the overly large creature, turning to help James collect his sister. Lily, still coughing up minuscule amounts of water, was clinging to her brother.

"Hey guys."

"Hey Ted," James said, crouching and helping Lily climb onto his back.

"Hi Teddy," Al muttered, staring at the ground.

Lily blinked a few times, then looked at Teddy, eyes wide and adoring. He nodded as he began to help another drenched student to the shore. Scorpius, rolling his eyes, began tugging Al towards the building. He followed, looking between his siblings and his friend, picking the latter.

Scorpius didn't really know why he wanted to leave the waterside, but he had good instincts honed by fear, so he was willing to trust them. Even if it didn't feel like you're-in-danger, more like hate-that-guy.

The halls were empty, though people were beginning to file behind them. Albus and Scorpius led the way down the echoing stone to the Great Hall, slowly pushing the doors open.

It was always as it had been. The four long House tables, set with silverware and goblets in neat rows, not a thing out of place. It all shone to perfection in the light of the thousand candles overhead, the stars beyond that too weak to be seen through the golden haze.

At the staff table, there was a shape of an elderly man with a long silver beard and hair, adjusting his spectacles. Albus, looking in that exact direction, didn't respond. But it didn't matter, because then Albus Dumbledore, nodding as he looked at Scorpius over half-moon glasses, turned around.

He was gone. Shaking his head slightly, and wondering if he had eaten something that had gone bad on the train (After all, Dumbledore wasn't one of the castle ghosts), Scorpius nodded to Al and found a seat, while he did the same.

Sitting near the place where the Sorting Hat would be set up, Scorpius set his backpack on the spot next to him, James coming up to sit across, Rose on Scorpius's other side, Fred next to James and Hugo sitting a few spots down, shooting glances of 'look at me' at his sister. James kept fiddling with his glasses, glancing around and doing it again, even while he got admiring female glances. Blinded by his deflated ego.

Something landed on Scorpius's back and shoulder, something heavy with small claws that smelled only lightly of ferret because unlike other ferrets, Splash enjoyed keeping clean and baths. A paw dug into his hair, a damp nose sniffed at his ear. Scorpius stayed completely still while Rose reached around towards her cousin's familiar. "Almost..."

"Sorry!" Albus beat her to Splash, practically yanking her off his shoulder. Glancing at him, his face was red, probably embarrassment. "She got away and I didn't notice I'm sorry!"

He ran off back to his seat. Splash looked disgruntled.

"...That was weird. James, there's something wrong with our cousin. Can I interrogate him?"

"Leave 'im alone, Rosey. Hey, here they come!"

A line of first-years were led up the center aisle, some still looking damp, and in alphabetical order. (Why McGonagall did that when she was just call their names anyway was beyond him, but...) There was twenty-seven, which was more than last year, but less than Scorpius's.

The Hat, which had been set on its stool, stirred, the rip of a mouth opening at the brim. It began to sing:

_When I was but a hat,_

_And all this school was young,_

_Helga Hufflepuff used to lead a song._

_And when she sang this song, _

_All the room was bright,_

_For she lit the candles with loyalty and love_

_To last out all the night._

_When I was but a hat,_

_On Godric Gryffindor's head,_

_Through the forest he might be led._

_And there he would tame monsters,_

_Fight giants,_

_Werewolves!_

_And so he protected our students _

_From dark creatures scorn._

_When I was but a hat,_

_Salazar the dungeons ruled._

_Brew potions, whisper to snakes,_

_But he was our Healer too._

_When I was but a hat,_

_The library was Ravenclaw's pride,_

_She filled it full of books and knowledge till it almost reached the sky._

_But alas, _

_They are gone now,_

_So set me on your head,_

_And you may be their House instead._

The school clapped, the first-years too terrified or fascinated by such a thing as the Hat, older students thinking that it was much shorter this year than it had been the year before.

"Now, when I call your name-it's a formality, put your hand down, child!-you will come up here, we will place the hat on your head, and you shall be sorted!" Headmistress McGongall proclaimed, holding up the tattered object, which was now surveying the crowd despite a lack of physical eyes.

"Now..." She read off a name as Scorpius caught Lily's eye. She looked nervous, glancing around, and he gave her a small smile. She smiled back.

"Morgan, Alan." Mouse led the young boy up to the stool, where McGonagall guided him to sit. The small and terrified brunette boy, next to the large, stoic dog, made an almost laughable contrast as the hat was set on his head, slumping over the blind eyes.

The Sorting Hat could be heard muttering, before shouting "HUFFLEPUFF!" The table cheered loudly, clapping their approval.

Someone shouted, "Test the dog!" McGonagall swept a look over the room, but the Hat was chuckling and was egging her to comply. It was set on Mouse's head. The Hat muttered as Mouse tilted his head like he was trying to dislodge it, before it shouted out that the dog could be a Ravenclaw. The room burst into laughter, Alan being guided by his Ravenclaw dog to the Hufflepuff table. A student helped him sit down.

"Nox-" Several of the candles extinguished themselves. The room roared with laughter again. "-Kaia."

She tipped up to the seat and became a Ravenclaw.

Several students later, though Scorpius found them less interesting (Even if two of them became Gryffindors) until "Potter, Lily!" was called and the room filled with baited breath. Where would she go? Slytherin, like Al? A proper Gryffindor, like James and her parents? Or a different House entirely?

Lily went up to the Hat like she did this all the time, though her eyes hinted at fear, and she sat down.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The Hat, which had only just settled, proclaimed this loudly, the announced table standing and clapping like they did every student that joined them. She grinned and hopped down, coming right over. But instead of going to James, who was grinning wildly and looking ready to headlock her into a hug, or Rose, who was whistling, she went up to Scorpius. He dragged his backpack off the bench, setting it on the floor. Lily scrambled into its place, still grinning as the crowd began to sit down.

"Oh, come o-"

"Greengrass-"

Scorpius didn't bother listening to the rest. Oh, dear, distant, cousin. Please don't remember you have a cousin called Malfoy.

Ignoring the girl who was sorted into Slytherin, he watched Lily pull out a marker from her hair, where it had been tucked behind her head, and began coloring her shoes. The red marker soaked in, staining the white marks scarlet.

"Weasley, Louis."

The boy shuffled to the chair, the Hat settling down for a few minutes before crying, "Guess you'll be... GRYFFINDOR!"

Louis followed his cousin, sitting down farther along the bench, next to his sister. Hugo waved.

McGongall finished up the students, voice sounding more and more sore, finally sitting down with a grimace.

Food appeared on the tables, which immediately groaned under the weight. Scorpius kept an eye on Lily, who didn't quite know what to do, staring at the food but too shy to ask. He bumped her shoulder slightly as James rolled his eyes. "Do I have to force both of you to eat? Here." He rattled a dish in front of them, shoving it forward.

Lily took a deep breath, and could be described as diving into the fray, snatching small servings of things around. Scorpius just took from the serving dish in front of him, already sinking back into his old habits. Eat little, leave fast, don't attract attention.

"Want some?" Lily pointed to a dish out of his reach, one with something might've been a very trussed up chicken, covered in a sauce. "Iss goo'!" She swallowed. "I mean, good!"

Scorpius shrugged, leaning over her to get some. Eating slowly, his eyes wandered over the room, trying to class general attitude this year. People were definitely over last year, but there were still hints. Quieter movement, floor tile inspection, even whispers of the stories. Down the Gryffindor table, Sean caught his eye for moment. His eyes, instead of angry, were rather calm. He gave him a single, slow nod, returning to a conversation. People were talking of their summers, relatives and close family, the Giant Squid. Everything was pretty normal. There was less dirty looks, so he could guess he might have a good four or five free weeks.

Birch was back, looking thoroughly shamed, a held-back fourth-year that much of his House was avoiding sitting near. Scorpius quickly flicked his eyes to the table as he felt angry eyes burn into him.

The table cleared of the food as Instructor Longbottom stood up. She cleared her throat. "Since Headmistress McGonagall is losing her voice, I'll be doing announcements. First off, as the name implies, the Forbidden Forest is forbidden. No one, and I mean no one, is allowed to enter. Second, Scorpius Malfoy in Gryffindor is mute and uses sign language, as does Magg-Margaret McCoy in Ravenclaw, who is deaf. Alan Morgan is blind. Do not insult, hurt or impede their ability to communicate unless you'd like detention or possible suspension." She turned her eyes to Birch. "Third, we have two new teachers. The first is Ted Lupin, who is taking up the Defense Against the Dark Arts post from last two years teacher, Cho Chang."

Teddy stood up, hair turning pink in response to the applause with his cheeks.

"And the other is Margaret Katherine Carpenter, not related to our two Gryffindors, who is taking over History of Magic from our longest-running teacher, Professor Binns, who has retired to haunting the Owlrey."

A woman with hair a shade of turquoise blue, though it looked fake, stood and waved to the crowd.

"And our caretaker, Miss Bell, would like to ask, as usual, that there be no magic used in the corridors between classes. The ghost of Mister Filch-" several students made faces, "has been complaining. Finally, Quidditch trials." Cheers went up. "They will be held during the second and third weeks of term, contact me, or your House captain. Trial schedules will be arranged by numbers."

She sat down, whisking her hair up into a ponytail. Immediately, dessert made an appearance. Lily, like James and Fred, dived on a plate of jelly donuts. Scorpius nibbled at a chocolate biscuit, almost feeling his family's scandalized eyes as he set his elbow on the table and leaned his hand on it.

He studied Lily, who was wiping jelly off her face with her sleeve. Really, this Lily next to him wasn't so different from the one he wrote to. She smiled, she laughed, she was innocent and bright and blissfully unaware of a world that said Malfoys and Potters shouldn't peacefully interact, rather than Albus and James with their active rebellion. But the one in front of him was somehow _more_. She had life, and thoughts and contradictions and he couldn't even imagine what she might say in response to any one of the questions sent her way, and Scorpius found himself grinning.

She looked up, and though she flushed and brought out the pale outline of invisible freckles, she grinned.

And then she waved her wand.

Two different students found themselves coated with food. Those students? People who were attaining glares.

In all of ten seconds, Scorpius saw a food fight break out, puddings taking to the air. Grabbing the plate of biscuits in front of him, he ducked under the table. James and Lily were already there, Fred looting food and joining them.

"Really Lil! First day and you start a mess!" James tried to keep an angry face, but it quickly split. "Good going! We need a nickname for her. Lessee... Since I'm Waterfall," James took a biscuit from the plate, eating it as he thought. "And Fred's... What are you, Fred?"

"I dunno. I've been juggling between Forge and Rapier."

"Go with Forge, sounds cooler." James handed him a biscuit. "And Score, I was thinking you should be Mouse, but I heard them calling the dog, so... Hmm... Storm? Got the eye color. And then Lil can be Sunrise."

Lily blushed behind her pudding, pale freckles standing out strongly.

"Nah, not good enough. How about... Forest Fire? Or is that too long?" Fred mused at Splash, who had scurried over, stealing a biscuit.

Scorpius reached into his backpack, having been thinking since James said he was Waterfall. Pulling out the quill Fred had invented, he wrote _Wildfire_ in the air.

The two cousins looked at it critically, Fred muttering something about "Girly handwriting, he's got. All nice cursive..." before apparently agreeing.

"And Rosey can be Rapier, she's sharper than me anyway. Now let's cause mischief!"

They scattered from under the table, reaching for ammo and tossing it. McGonagall seemed resigned to wait this venture out, sitting under the staff table with several older teachers. Hagrid was out of sight.

However, Professors Carpenter and Lupin were enthusiastically in the fray, and Scorpius had to duck a well aimed tart from the new History teacher. In return, he threw whipped cream, but it was a poor choice and splattered over the robes of a prissy-looking Slytherin.

Alan somehow ended up next to him, and Scorpius sat him on the bench and let James explain the happenings. Then the three got hit with the contents of a large pitcher, which turned out had held pumpkin juice and a Syrup Charm, making it rather sticky.

Everyone knew the kitchens had been informed when food stopped appearing on the table. Scorpius had caramel splashed down his robes when McGonagall finally stopped the whole thing. She had waited for that one little lull and had stood up, glaring down at the room.

They looked up and sat down.

Or, at least, those with usable benches. Scorpius stopped rubbing clotted cream and donut into Hugo's hair and stole a seat, waiting for their verdict.

"I know who started this, and I must say, this has to be the fastest received detentions in school history! Lily, James Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, I am ashamed."

Her eyes over her glasses spoke otherwise, as well as she hid it.

"Detention for a month. Go to bed, all of you."

The crowd stood, Scorpius rescued his backpack, and headed for the door.

"Hey Malfoy."

Scorpius stopped, looking at Hugo and preparing to run. Hugo was glaring. It suddenly split into a grin as he held out a hand. "Forgiven for being an ass?"

Scorpius shrugged and shook his hand anyway.

§•§

Later that night, after everyone had a shower or a cleaning spell, his dormmates gathered. Silence fell, for a moment.

The first reason for this was obvious. Michael looked like he was going through puberty, growing taller and broader. Rafael looked practically the same as last year, though with longer hair and and slight clothes style change. He looked, dare Scorpius think it, a little girly.

The second was Scorpius. The dorm suddenly burst into laughter.

"Can't believe you did that!" Sean gasped.

"Pie EVERYWHERE!" Raf worked out.

Michael couldn't stand up straight.

Scorpius laughed, paused, laughed again and finally sat down on his bed. The rest of the dorm migrated to bed while Scorpius opened his trunk and quietly found Shatter.

Shatter, in a nest of old robes, had laid three transparent eggs.

* * *

I appear to be missing my Petrichor :( If anyone finds him/her, tell them I miss em!

And on Shatter: The way I look at it, a season lasts about ninety years (One season=about three months=about ninety days). So somewhere in the last one-eighty years, Shatter got a hot one-night stand, or Shatter is androgynous, like worms, and just mates with his/herself, which is weird, and also puts our awesome Shatter on the level of insects, which just isn't cool.

Ah well, I'll figure it out :P Review! It makes me happy, and strangely, gives me ideas.


	10. Chapter 9: Rions

I haven't updated in forever D: I'm so sorry!

In other news, I have a new Lily/Scorpius out, (Shadows: A Tale in Letters) and it's funny and probably much lighter than this fic. Anyone who reviews both gets cookies and rions.

* * *

Scorpius went to bed, slightly dazed, (It was a lot like finding out your dog was having puppies. At first you're excited, but then you realize that's it's living things and your head goes numb trying to figure out how something could be in there) and woke up, slightly dazed. He had carefully moved the nest to a much safer location, a hollow under a floorboard under his bed and had written a letter to Lucius immediately. He was going to send it right after breakfast, hope for a sensible explanation, and then go back to be a hyperactive child who had found out PUPPIES!

Looking at the already stormy weather outside, he hoped they learned Warming charms first.

He dressed, checked to make sure he didn't still have pumpkin juice in his hair and headed downstairs, all ready to receive his timetable and hate it.

Lily was slumped into the table. Sitting next to James, he watched his pseudo-brother make sure she wasn't drowning in her toast and left her that way, doing practically the same. "Why are you so awake?" he muttered.

Scorpius ate his bacon, deciding to explain when he'd be able to read. There was still dried pudding on James's glasses.

Schedules fluttered down onto plates and heads, dropped by Professor Longbottom as he passed.

His first class was History of Magic. Yay, weird teacher!

Eating quickly and finding it odd that he didn't have Athena to run with, he left to go to the Owlrey. Several students were still heading towards the hall, calling out things to friends and rivals. Scorpius even got a few shouts.

"Hey!"

He froze, closing his eyes tightly. He hadn't heard that voice since she was four. It had barely changed. She made her displeasure at something known as she stomped up. "I'm talking to you, _cousin!_"

Slowly, he turned.

Oh, still the same. Staring down at her almost black locks and expensive hair clips, he waited, arms crossed.

"Why?"

He knew exactly what she was asking. Why wasn't he a proper Slytherin and why wasn't he showing her around like a good obedient idiot? Why she was waiting for a response...

Scorpius rolled his eyes, patting her head to irritate her and practically pushing her at Al, wanting to go to the Owlery without a tagalong critiquing his every move. That's what mothers were for.

Jogging quickly through the halls and up the stairs, he finally came to the room he required without running into anyone. He inched his way through all the small skeletons, droppings, and feathers mixed unpleasantly on the floor along a tiny path kept and cleaned by students as Professor Binns looked up from a corner with a yawn. Finally as far as he wanted to go, he held out his arm to Name Les, whistling slightly. She peered at him from under a wing and flew to him, landing and holding out her leg while he tied the letter on. She flew off and he immediately turned to go downstairs. Maybe he should have let his cousin come along, he hated being alone in the castle...

He made it down the stairs, into the corridor and was nearly at his class when he heard someone trying to hide crying and failing, echoed by the halls. Sighing, he followed it and hoped that it wasn't Moaning Myrtle out of her bathroom. He'd heard some unpleasant things about that ghost.

It was his cousin, who looked like she'd been the subject of both a particularly nasty Tripping jinx and Peeves. There was a large ink stain down her robes, which she was fruitlessly trying to clean off. Several students nearby were ignoring her.

As much as he may have hated Rhea, she was his relative. Nobody did that to his cousin.

He pulled her to her feet, quickly flicked his wand over her clothes. The students showed surprise when it responded, and he remembered that he had been told not use nonverbal magic at school, but screw that.

He tugged along the corridors, pulled out her schedule and finally located Lily, whose schedule had a coinciding class.

"Hi!" She bounced up to him. He handed Rhea her schedule and shoved her at the now energetic Gryffindor.

"I'm not going near h-I'm your new best friend, let's go to class," she said without enthusiasm. Scorpius gave her head another condescending pat and ran right back to History of Magic.

Thankfully, he wasn't late. Unthankfully, he ran into a Tripping jinx and skidded along a stretch of hallway on his side. He rolled, leapt up, and went right on going, barely making it in time as he slid into an empty seat at the back.

"That everyone? Anymore Olympic runners?"

A few sniggered, but the reference went over most of their heads. Scorpius carefully rubbed his arm, wishing that he hadn't left Shatter in his nest. Or her. Something like that.

He also wished he knew what Olympic was supposed to be in this context, but all things considering, there was no point.

"Now then! Considering your old teacher was a ghost who wasn't aware he was dead, I think we could all use with a whole new set of courses!" She tapped her wand on the chalkboard, and the chalk rose. "What's some topics to start with? Come on, just shout it out!"

The class remained quiet. Didn't she have curriculum?

"Come on, guys, I want to know what you're interested in! Just shout it out!"

Slowly, a hand raised. "Erm... Witch hunting?"

"Modern or medieval?"

The girl shrugged. "Both, I guess..."

The chalk scribed it in quick handwriting. A second hand raised.

"How about... Witch burnings! I heard that Americans had this thing called the Salem witch trials."

"Yes, but there's also witch burning in Europe-a lot of it-so we'll cover both."

"Could we study charlatans?" a muggleborn witch called. "My da keeps talking about them."

Professor Carpenter nodded and the chalk obeyed.

Rose, sitting two rows back, waved her hand wildly. "Energetic redhead, go!"

Rose froze, but then cleared her throat. "I... Um... I was wondering what we could find out about the beginnings of magic. If people thought it was... Good... Or bad... Or... Things like that."

She nodded. "That one will take some digging, though. Not sure there's really much left on that subject..."

Rose carefully lowered her hand, nodding.

"How about prejudice against magic?"

"Religion and magic?" That one was Michael, sitting two rows down.

"Latin and other spell languages!"

"Ghosts!"

"Alchemy!"

"Symbols!"

"Demons?"

"Demonic possession!"

"I want to hear about prophecies!"

"Animals and familiars?"

"Why do we use the terms witch and wizard?"

"Dimensions," Lysander said quietly.

"Sacrifice?"

"Blood sacrifice."

The darker topics had opened up. Demonic possession had been mentioned as a joke, even if it was now in print. Now...

"Souls."

"Resurrection."

"Immortality?"

"Fate."

"Concept of good and evil in magic."

"Gods."

"Near-death experiences."

"Philosopher's Stone."

Professor Carpenter's chalk caught up. "Good, good." Something clicked in her mouth as she yawned. "So-Sorry. I didn't sleep much. This is a good list. I'll keep a copy, and we'll study each in turn. For today, we'll start with this." She tapped the board with her wand, looking almost a little surprised to see writing appear, but recovered.

What followed was the most interesting History class Scorpius had ever been in, and now just because their teacher had her tongue pierced. She summed up the Goblin wars in this strange new way, where all this new information that was much more interesting than dates and names and notes came to light. The class wrapped up with an open discussion of whether wands would help or hinder non-human beings in their magic based on the given information. The discussion followed the students into the hall, down the corridors into their next classes.

"I mean, I'm not saying all goblins should get wands, since some of them were downright malicious, but not all of them wer-"

"Welcome to Defense Against Dark Arts, Rose, please end your conversation."

She looked at the man, who now had bright yellow hair, and nodded. "Sorry Te-Professor Lupid-Lupin." She blushed, face turning a deep red-purple.

He nodded. "It's alright, I'm sure it must have been interesting." He faced the class. "As I said, welcome!" He put a nasal tone in his voice. "Please fasten your seatbelts. Do not detach seatbelts until the sign reading seatbelts is no longer illuminated." A small yellow sign next to his head blinked a series of messages.

The class roared with laughter. They'd all had some experience from Muggle Studies concerning the "Muggle Female Flight Attendant."

He switched accents, setting a hat on his still yellow hair. "Welcome aboard the M. M. S. Defense! Call me Admiral, right Dominique?"

Dominique, who had come into class late, turned pink under her silver-blond hair. "Yes, Professor Admiral."

He tossed the hat into the seats. "Right, that joke's sailed it's course. And crashed in the shallows, from the looks of it." Scattered laughter. "My name is Professor Ted Lupin, I signed up to for whatever McGonagall would give me, and for all I know I got this job because my dad had it for a year. So for all I know, I suck at teaching. But I guarantee this'll be a fun year."

Teacher? Fun? What a hypocrisy! But Scorpius, Rose, and Al all leaned in, attention captured.

"Now, let's start with a serious conversation about indecision. Or maybe we shouldn't. I can't decide."

They laughed.

"But really. Let's get started. In a throwback, let's look at boggarts!"

There was a quick silence as everyone checked for a joke. None stood out.

"Right, so who knows what a boggart is?"

Several people raised their hands.

"Right, girl sticking her gum to the underside of her desk!"

Most of the class glanced back at her.

"Name?"

She looked down, pink cheeks clearly visible. "Catharine Bainbridge," she muttered.

"So can you tell us what a boggart is?"

"A creature that takes the form of a person's worst fear. They're defeated by laughter. One moved into my father's study last summer."

"What's the charm to defeat them...Malfoy?"

Scorpius blinked in shock, eyes widening.

"Er... Professor..." Sean carefully raised his hand. "He can't answer... Er... He's a mute..."

"He can find ways around that."

Scorpius finally pulled out his air-write quill, trying desperately to remember the charm. Someone had mentioned it once... Um...

Right! In Harry's story! His third year!

Scorpius blinked, shoving that slight parallel to the back of his mind as he wrote _riddikulus _in the air.

"Exactly! Repeat after me, frogs and to-ladies and gentlemen! _Riddikulus!" _He waved his wand as his hair turned rainbow, sides shrinking in and the center growing out. The rainbow mohawk of laughter.

"That wasn't my fault, by the way, this is what happens when my grandmother uses it on me. Happened every day. Come round a corner-'Riddikulus! Oh, sorry Teddy! I thought you were that boggart from the closet. You're covered in peanut butter."

They laughed again, the sound bouncing off the high ceiling.

"And if you think getting haircuts are bad, imagine when you can do it yourself! 'Gran, I don't want to have short hair today! I was playing jungleman in the living room!'"

Someone fell out of their seat, laughing loudly. Professor Lupin grinned widely. "Right! Let's get practicing! I'll have a boggart by next class!"

The rest of the class was spent waving their wands, watching the Professor's hair change color, talking, joking, and of course: bragging to potential love interests.

(Third years could have crushes too!)

"So I waved my wand and WHOOSH! It was pushed back into the fire and exploded!"

"So I would have been in the Triwizard, but they decided I was too good-"

"You wouldn't have been!"

"What do you know, Al?"

"More than you, obviously."

"And you see, once I do that, he's supposed to marry me."

"And the explosion took out the chimney, but I survived by ducking behind the couch and blasting pieces that came flying towards me-oh, sorry, did I hit you?"

Professor Lupin stood on his desk. "There once was a man from Nantucket-"

"Who finished that limerick, was fired and kicked the bucket, Professor Lupin."

He winced. "Er... Hello McGonagall. Didn't hear you come in. Um... Something wrong with-"

"I know what particular one you were going to say, Professor. Refrain from announcing dirty limericks to impressionable third-years!"

The impressionable third-years were instantly curious.

However, their curiosity was not to be sated, as a cowed professor dismissed his class. Scorpius began trying to think of what that saying could be. In doing so, his mind wandered into dangerous territory. Things that are supposed to be regulated by hormones and extremely awkward talks from ones mother that make children swear they'll never look anyone but their maiden aunt in the eye again. THAT territory. It struggled in vain and made it out in time for the next class, barely.

That was Charms, which was extremely subdued after the energy of Professor Lupin's class, and Scorpius saw no less than three people suddenly start laughing, causing such mistakes as tables prancing across the room, turning Professor Flitwick's hair blue and in the spectacular case that dismissed the entire class while their dear professor went looking for the Headmistress, turning Al's ferret into a rather confused blond girl that chittered at everyone and crouched in the corner.

This and similar topics were the highlights of lunch discussion as Scorpius and his friends all sat around and thought up that week's pranks.

"I convinced Peeves to join us, payment in ink pellets and Wheezes exploding gum. So he can provide any distractions necessary to get away. So this week, I think... Well, not much of the week left. And there's still detention. Er... Lessee..." James adjusted his glasses.

"Slip potions into the school drinks?" Rose suggested, pulling out a piece of parchment. "Ones that do weird things, like make everyone sing love songs or talk in rhyme?"

"Sure. Or nifflers in History of Magic-No wait, Professor might get hurt. Damn those piercings."

Scorpius grabbed the parchment, writing, _'Charm the suits to wolf-whistle.'_

Rose took it back. "Well, _your _head's in the gutter, isn't it?" Scorpius turned a little pink. "Oh, don't worry about it, Teddy has that effect on people. It wears off." She looked at the ceiling. "Any ideas, Lil?"

"Um, um, um... Put a ferret down someone's pants?"

Rose and Scorpius managed to spit drinks across the table in unison.

"What?"

"N-Nothing... Oh GOD!" She repeatedly slammed her fist against the table, red from laughter and choking. Lily looked naively confused. Scorpius was vaguely aware of one Sean Creevy attempting to explain what had happened in Charms before bursting into laughter himself, the small section of the table in uncontrolled fits.

"Okay then," Fred said as they calmed down. "None of that. But... Hm. Wait! I have some-no, I lost it."

"Oh yeah. Happy birthday, Rose! Well, extra-early birthday, but I'm scared it might tear my backpack apart." James pulled out something small and furry and except for the long fangs and thick ruff of fur round the neck, a rather innocent-looking baby rabbit.

"Heard they got along with cats, and I had a friend who couldn't keep it. It's friendly! It just... Doesn't like being confined."

Rose carefully took the creature, which Scorpius vaguely remembered seeing in a pet shop when he was six and being denied, holding it to her chest. "...Thanks... I guess." She still looked slightly confused. "Um... Where did he get it?"

"His yard, in the rat trap. There was a nest of them nearby."

"A nest of rions, James?"

"Den, warren, whatever the word is. So anyway, his dog was gonna kill it, and so he pawned it off on me since I'm too damn gullible for my own good, and I decided that since you don't have a pet-"

"I'd like the unholy magical spawn of a rabbit and a lion. How do you breed them anyway?"

"I dunno. Vegetarian lions? You tell me, you got your mum's smarts."

Rose sighed, rolling her eyes. "Whatever. Come on, little guy! Let's find out what you eat!" She grabbed her backpack and stood, leaving her lunch abandoned. Scorpius took the plate, scraped it onto his own and continued eating. He didn't give it much thought, he just didn't want to see good pie go to waste. Considering that James was giving him that look that said he was going against the rules of normal cool, it probably wasn't a good idea.

This was the moment that he realized that there was girl germs (No, worse! Rose germs!) in his mouth and he carefully swallowed in disgust, disguising it as a _what_ shrug for James.

"That was Rose's. And you're eating it."

Lily, while they were distracted with their one-sided conversation, had swiped Scorpius's plate. "Mine!"

Fred and James were making excuses to leave the table, which was never a good sign.

"Hey look! Splash is back to normal!"

And indeed she was. Headmistress McGonagall strode down the floor to Albus, holding a white ferret with a splash of grey.

"Refrain from bringing your familiar to classes, Mister Potter," she said in clipped tones, holding her out.

"Yes ma'am," Scorpius saw him mouth in return, taking Splash. James and Fred headed right over, in front of everyone, and began to tease him.

Scorpius looked at the ceiling, which was still the same shade of grey as this morning, and counted. Three, two, one. Okay, time to go save him friend. Scorpius stood up.

"Um, Scorpius?" Lily asked quietly. "Can I talk to you?"

Scorpius sat down, directing his full attention to Lily and ignoring the Ravenclaw, who had dug an old song called Draco the Bouncing Ferret and was singing it loudly and off-key.

"I don't like that you shoved Rhea Greengrass off onto me. I know people think I'm a nice person, but she's definitely not, and she's not the type of person I want to be seen with. She's..." Lily kicked her feet, staring at the ground. "Quite frankly she's immature-the second I said she was wearing her tie wrong she screeched at me-and a brat and I would appreciate if you wouldn't force me to be around her again." She glanced up and flushed. "Er... Sorry if that was rude, but..."

Scorpius smiled in understanding, admiring her courage and insight and stood up, amazing wit and quill all ready to defend his best friend from his own relatives. (And correct some of those verses. They had the chorus all wrong!)

He couldn't help thinking that if Lily was just a few years older, his grandfather might like her.

* * *

Yup! The Monty Python bunny comes to Hogwarts. This was partially the humor chapter and partially filler. Please review!


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